


"V" Is For...

by HentaiPrincess06



Category: DMCV, Devil May Cry, Devil May Cry 5 - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bonding, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Come Inflation, Come Marking, Come as Lube, Dante is a teddybear, Declarations Of Love, Demon Deals, Demon Sex, Demon cock, Demonic Pacts, Demons, Denial, Devil Cock, Devilcest - Freeform, Dorks in Love, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dubious Science, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Falling In Love, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Inflation, Love, Love Confessions, Love and Protection, Love/Hate, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsters, Multiple POV's, Nero is a millenial, Nightmares, Or at least references to song lyrics, Poems, Poetry, Post-Canon, Selfcest, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex Is Fun, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Soul Bond, Soul-Searching, Spardacest, Spardacest Week, Split Personalities, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Fluff, Team as Family, Trigger Warning: Penis, True Love, Tumblr fuckoff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, V bottoms for everyone, V is an old man, V is dramatic, Vergil is a hissy cat, monster cock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HentaiPrincess06/pseuds/HentaiPrincess06
Summary: Beta by A Shy Cryptid---Fancy Summary:Vergil was very prideful, which made him vengeful, vindictive, vicious, and a whole lot of other words that started with the letter ‘V’. Which, was funny, because V was the complete opposite of everything Vergil had been. In fact, there was a whole list of other words that started with the man’s namesake that Nero could think about--starting with virtuous, despite his deceitful nature.V really didn’t feel like his father. That much, Nero was certain of.---Candid Summary:Dante and Vergil make it back to the human world, thanks to the Yamato. Dante decides to get all lovey-dovey with his twin brother since they’d made up (for the time being), but Vergil turns into V because he can’t emotionally handle it.Pairings: NeroV, DanteV, DanteVergil, VergilV (is this selfcest???) basically devilcest/Spardacest, also NeroKyrie because family is family. BUAHAHA!





	1. Vergil

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> This fic takes place one year after the canon-events of the story! Nope, there is no soul-splitting, just Vergil being able to ‘switch’ between himself and V. Why? Because I already miss V okay?
> 
> I didn’t think I was ever going to write DMCV fanfics, or DMC fanfics to begin with. I’m the kind of person that really can’t do much outside of what has already been established in canon, but I like to twist and bend the events using the logic that the canon series provides me with! I hope that you will enjoy the return of V, and the character’s interactions I’ve messily hashed together!
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06

**\--(June 14, 11.59 PM)**

 

_ ‘ _ _ Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell,’ _

 

It was a typical night, that evening. The cool and crisp night air was light and airy, compared to the summer-sun-filled day time. Aside from a lonely few, the sleepy peoples of Red Grave City had retired to bed.

 

_ ‘But every night I see the rubbery things, _

 

In the past year, it had taken more than a tremendous amount of effort to repopulate the victorian-era-old metropolis. Though, thanks to a now well-known demon-hunter and devil-slayer, even the most troublesome of invading underworld-kind had been a quick phone call away from eradication.

 

_ ‘Black, horned and slender, with membranous wings,’ _

 

Though, the two devils that would come in a moment...would not be so easily slain.

 

**CRACK!**

 

_ ‘They come in legions on the north wind’s swell,’ _

 

A strike of lightning, red and blue, burned through the previously quiet evening sky. The hellgate had opened once more, but only for the breath of a moment. However, it was enough for two powers, so great and mighty, that the ground shook, and the sky opened up and wept for fear of the world.

 

_ ‘With obscene clutch that titillates and stings,’ _

 

The sons of Sparda had returned.

  
  
  


.

.

.

 

**\--(???? ??, ??.??)**

 

_ It had been fun, being human. _

 

_ It felt good, to be protected. _

 

_ It was enough, to understand what it was like to be loved. _

 

_..even if, it was only for a moment. _

 

Thoughts such as these, were why he’d been forcibly separated from Vergil in the first place.

 

Vergil had become he, and he was V; only dream-like memories remained of the human, who once walked free.

 

Memories that Vergil kept to himself entirely. Whilst secretive, V had been more honest—no, while human, Vergil had been more honest. In the end, even V could not uphold Vergil’s secrecy.

 

Despite the truth that V was he, and he had been Vergil, it only worked one way and not the reverse. Elsewise, demon would not have been able to separate from the man so easily, even with the Yamato’s curse.

 

Soon, V would disappear entirely—the memories would fade, and so would that name that he could barely, as his own, claim.

 

For a fragment needed not a name.

 

Perhaps it was alright to enjoy the memories, while they lasted, he thought. 

 

_ Ah, it was the sentimental, human part of him. Feelings of attachment? Indeed.  _

 

The time unintentionally spent with his--then, unknown--family, had brought attachment that felt too much like rot.

 

.

.

.

 

_ Nero was not as useless as he had thought. _

 

That was the first thought to be explored. He remembered the strong hands--much like his own, much like Dante’s--picking him off the ground to his feet.

 

A strong arm under his, much more fragile own, supporting him while the concern in that young, wild voice soothed his aching, deteriorating flesh.

 

_ Ahh, mayhaps being a fragile human was not as awful as he had thought it to be until now. _

 

Mayhaps, it was enjoyable...to be looked after.

 

_...no, that could not be right _ .

 

Such thoughts were beneath him, such feelings were ‘weak’, _ unacceptable _ \--to Vergil.

 

_ Then, whose thoughts were these? _

 

_ Who _ was it that was-- _ is _ , thinking?

 

_ Who- _

 

“Ga-Ah!”

 

_ Who was it...whose hands were those? _

 

“Come on...don’t you dare do this to me, Vergil…”

 

_ Whose hands...were holding him down? _

 

“Dante--!”

 

_ Whose voice was-- _

 

“Look at me!”

 

Dante’s...and one other…

 

“E-...Enough…!”

 

Vergil. Yes. That voice belonged to Vergil.

 

_ So...whose thoughts were-- _

 

“Damnit…!”

 

Air. He required air!

 

“Ahh, you son of a bitch, Vergil...just when I thought we made up...”

 

Strong shoulders. Heavy breathing. Yes, this voice was familiar...though, the heat was entirely new.

 

“What…” 

 

Ahh, yes. He was able to recognize that particular tone. That voice was his own. He had spoken. 

 

_ Curious. That was not--should not, have been possible.  _

 

“I should be asking you that…!” Yes, that was Dante’s voice again. Dante was speaking to him and he was--

 

_..he was a dark, dark dream--… he was a feather, he was a fang--....he was--had been a split soul, with a bitter wound...he was-- _

 

...--naked. On top of Dante? On his lap. How? Why? Where?

 

“I cannot…”

 

He could not...breathe..

 

_ Dante. _

 

Darkness.

  
  


.

.

.

 

**\--- (June 15, 6.13 AM** )

 

Dante cradled the fragile-as-all-hell, limp body. It was light, so, so damn light. So much damn lighter than his own.

 

“There go all my honeymoon plans,” Dante brooded.

 

As if getting back to the human world wasn’t hard enough with someone as stubborn as Vergil to drag around, the bastard had to make things complicated. Idiot had to find a way to ruin their little celebration.

 

And it wasn’t like the demons in hell gave them enough peace and quiet for them to fuck.

 

... _ lovingly _ , fuck.

 

Now, there he was, holding V in his arms, when it should have been Vergil he was hauling ass home with. Just when Dante’d thought they’d made up for a bit. Just when Dante’d thought he’d maybe get some easy morning smooches--and elbows to the face--and something nearby to grope for awhile.

 

Vergil had always been enjoyable company. Hell, Dante knew that he loved to hate that man, with the same face, the same eyes, the same hands, and the same fine-as-hell ass as his own.

 

It had been Vergil in his arms, protesting fruitlessly--playing his part when the tables were turned on him. But fuck, Dante’d more than happily spread himself open for Vergil if his brother would just ask nicely like he used to--it was Vergil after all. He’d do anything  _ for _ and do everything  _ to _ Vergil.

 

It  _ had _ been Vergil.

 

It  _ had _ been Vergil that Dante carefully pinned against the nearest surface--a cobblestone road-- after winning their latest duel. Fair and square too, Dante would add.

 

It  _ had _ been Vergil  _ damnit _ \--when he’d thoughtfully ripped his stupid prissy top off and yanked those stupidly tight pants of his off--so that he was comfortably bare--Dante really was too nice--and jammed his hips into him, becoming one.

 

_ Like always. _

 

It  _ had _ been  _ Vergil _ when they’d been so fucking lost in that familiar,  _ sick _ feeling of pain and euphoria with blood and sweat and human cries and moans; demonic growls, to poetically go with the demon cum. Can’t forget the demon cum.

 

Dante was being nice, too. They’d only done it about ten times? Eleven, maybe? Didn’t matter. He was being nice. It was a celebratory fuck after all. Filled with love, of course.

 

_ Like always. _

 

But it was V, when he decided to confess his feelings. Vergil hadn’t heard him. Vergil had run away...again.

 

_ Like. Fucking. Always. _

 

Well, there was nothing for it now. Dante took V home.

  
  
  


.

.

.

**\--- (June 18, 12.03 PM** )

 

Nero brooded. 

 

The bastard had taken his sweet time coming home, leaving him behind, thinking that he’d likely never see his uncle or his father again...right after discovering that they’d in fact, been family. Seemed that there were some serious communication problems between this particular side of the family tree.

 

“Come on, lizard-arm!” Nico chirped. “What’s with the sour mug?”

 

“He just--he’s been back for three days! Three days!” Nero threw his arms up. “He coulda said something!”

 

Did having demon blood automatically make one into an asshole? Nero sure hoped not. He liked to think he treated Kyrie, and well...everyone else, kind of well. At least, he hoped he did.

 

“Well, it’s better than not getting him back at all is it?” Nico shrugged, turning the corner. 

 

Nero sighed. “You’re just happy ‘cause you never got his autograph…”

 

_...this was his father’s fault, really. _

 

“Hey, like ya said, there was a lotta stuff goin’ on! I didn’t think it’d be classy to ask!” Nico argued back. “That dun mean I don’t mean it! It’s great that yer family’s back! I mean, he told you this mornin’!”

 

Nero wondered if he should really be thankful that he was even told. He was about to say something else, when Nico interrupted.

 

“Gotta take the family drama with the family…!” she grinned.

 

“...is that...a quote?” Nero asked, shooting her a skeptical look.

 

Nico glanced over, looking too chipper for Nero’s liking. “S’wut grandma used to say!”

 

Nero sighed through his nose as the van approached their destination. He raised his foot, putting it on the dashboard and flexing his leg to keep him in place when the van screeched to a stop, in front of the old building with the bright, tacky neon sign that read ‘Devil May Cry’. 

 

Figures, the sign was off. He wasn’t surprised that Dante hadn’t done anything to pay the rent after he’d gotten back.

 

Dante better not be ordering pizza.

 

Nero opened the door, glad to see the usual silvery hair, the red leather jacket, and the thick boots propped up on the desk. The old man really was back, looking as tired and bored as he always did. The sight was a relief, before the memories of everything that happened one year ago came crashing into Nero’s thoughts and he went back to being angry. He marched over to his dear-ol’-uncle, who had the phone in his hand.

 

Dante was ordering pizza.

 

“What took you so long?!” Nero slammed both hands on the desk.

  
The impact was hard enough that the phone on the desk, and the receiver in Dante’s hand flew up, as the desk jumped, before everything landed back down in place. With a click, the receiver landed neatly back on the phone.

 

“Perfect timing!” Dante raised his finger and grinned. “I’ve got a little favor for you.”

 

“I’ve got an actual job waiting back at Red Grave.” Nero retorted back. 

 

Dante got to his feet. “Welp, then you’ll need to do both. Let me sho--”

 

“DANTE!” Nero yelled.

 

Dante flinched, glancing back up at the room just above the stairs. Would that have been enough to wake the frail man?

 

Nero marched over angrilly. Was Dante seriously going to ignore him after all this time?! He grabbed at his uncle’s shoulder. “Hey, what gives?! And where’s Vergil?! Where’s my father?!”

 

_ Huh, guess not...V really could sleep like the dead, _ Dante thought, finally turning his attention to Nero. “If you’d pipe down and let me finish, you’ll see.”

 

“What?” Nero’s brows furrowed in confusion as Dante walked away, heading up the stairs.

 

Ahh dammit. Why was it never easy to talk to this guy?! Weren’t they family? Then again, his own father did tear his arm off a year ago…

 

Nero’s stomach churned.

 

Maybe having demon blood really  _ did _ make you an asshole.

 

Reluctantly, Nero followed Dante upstairs, still wondering what was so important that--he stopped. How had he noticed until now? There was a small, tingling sensation in his right arm; the arm currently using his convenient demonic abilities to possess the latest version of the Devil Breaker that Nico had designed for him.

 

“Oh yeah, you still playing with that thing?” Dante asked, not even glancing back at his nephew, making his way to the top of the stairs. “Thought you grew your arm back?”

 

Nero frowned and quickened his pace. “It’s not a toy you know?” He quickly switched to their current subject. “What is it anyway? Is it a-”

 

_...devil? _

 

It was the only reason that made Nero’s arm feel the way it did. Just like it had a year ago, when his deadbeat dad showed up to take back the Yamato. Huh, did showing up after all those years just to rip his arm off for a sword make him a deadbeat? There had to be something else Nero could call him, he thought.

 

But Nero didn’t get to finish his sentence.

 

“It’s not a ‘what’, but a ‘who’, kiddo,” Dante replied, opening the door. “We know exactly  _ what _ he is.”

 

All his life, Nero had wondered. He’d wondered just what kind of man he’d grow up to be. He wondered whether or not Kyrie and Credo had been able to truly guide him on the right path. He wondered, when Kyrie had told him that family was family, and how even Nico, Trish and Lady had congratulated him on finding his blood-family, if he’d finally get some answers.

 

He’d wondered if he’d get to finally ask all of the questions that’d been burning at the back of his mind. Why did he leave? Why had Vergil had him? Did he know he’d had a son? Did he...even care?

 

But there was the truth, and that was the fact that Vergil had returned.

 

So why then, was it that instead of Vergil being the one all beat-up-looking and bundled up in blankets and sheets on Dante’s bed (also, why was he on Dante’s bed?), was it V?

 

“What? You said--...” Nero stopped mid-sentence, putting his hand over his mouth and watching to see if V stirred.

 

When V didn’t move, Nero turned to growl at Dante. 

 

“You said Vergil had come back with you…!” He bared his teeth.

 

“He had,” Dante sighed, folding his arms, looking just as disappointed as Nero. “It had been Vergil when we went through the gate.”

 

Nero blinked, the anger turning into confusion, then concern, and he looked back towards the bed.

 

“Your guess is as good as mine, kid.” Dante sighed, turning to make his way back down the stairs. “Take your time.”

 

Dante hadn’t even given him the courtesy of properly saying ‘hello’ when he’d rushed over to the office, eager to see his uncle return, Nero seethed.

 

...this was his uncle's fault, too.

 

In all honesty, after all the weird stuff (like, arms growing back, tree tentacles, and all manner of freaky monsters), Nero shouldn’t have been so surprised. In fact, he wasn’t. He was rather annoyed. Tired of the stupid family drama he’d caught up on from what Trish and Lady had told him this past year.

 

Apparently, this was the fifth time that Vergil had caused Dante some form of trouble along with the rest of mankind. Nero himself had been the fourth time.

 

Dante was practically the main star of some bad action-packed soap-opera. Starring devil-spawn, instead of Vin Diesel, of course.

 

“Oops, there’s the door,” Dante said, quickly leaving Nero alone in the room with the sleeper.

 

“Huh. Did dear-ol’-Uncle-Dante have to yank you out of someone’s tummy teeth this time?” Nero asked sarcastically.

 

Of course, V didn’t answer. Guy was unconscious. Why the hell was Nero talking to him anyway? How was Nero even talking to him anyway? Didn’t they fix this whole split-in-half-because-dad-had-issues thing like...a year ago?

 

_ Vergil was his father. _

 

The thought felt like Nero had found out for the very first time all over again. He couldn’t help but get stuck on that thought. As much as he tried to joke to himself and lighten up the situation, he always managed to round right back to that one fact.

 

_ V had been Vergil, and Vergil was his father. _

 

Nero let out a long, low snort. He’d saved this skinny guy more than once before, and here he was, still causing trouble. Actually, Nero had no idea  _ who _ to blame. Was it his  _ father _ causing trouble? Was V just  _ accidentally _ there again--just some sorry by-product of his dumbass dad’s doing? Or was there another reason V was all wrapped up in Dante’s bed sheets instead of Vergil?

 

_...would Dante have tucked Vergil into his bed? _

 

No, wait. That wasn’t what Nero should have been concerned about.

 

“Dammit, V,” Nero sighed. “Dammit, dad.”

 

Since V wasn’t replying, Nero’s thoughts wandered over to the events of one year ago. What was the last thing V had told him, and him alone? Right, their last conversation happened when the man’s body had begun to crumble and fall apart. 

 

Shit, it was a damn sorry sight too. There had been no way Nero could have possibly said ‘no’ to V at the time, as much as he had wanted to. He remembered how that man’s too thin arm had felt--almost like paper-mache, like it had been real.

 

Well, technically, V hadn’t been entirely real...urgh, this was so  _ messed up. _

 

Nero looked at his own hand, recalling the pieces of--it hadn’t been flesh, flesh felt different--existence? Nero wasn’t quite sure, but the little paper-thin fragments of existence that made up V had crumbled with every step they had taken. He could still see phantom shapes of the tiny flakes in his hand. It was terrifying to watch the man go from merely being a seemingly always tired human, to completely falling apart.

 

**_“I beg you! This is my last request.”_ **

 

Nero snorted again, more of a frustrated grunt this time. “Last request my ass. Don’t make me feel sorry for you if you’re not going for good.”

 

It pissed Nero off. The jumble of emotions accompanied by the recollection of the events of one year ago fought with each other like Dante and Vergil inside of him. Dammit.

 

Nero shook his head. It was better to focus on their most recent call--one that Dante’s arrival had delayed his trip to--than think about all of this at the moment. Besides, it wasn’t going to change much. He’d still be hunting down demons and devils, and stopping the end of the world; and Dante was back too. After all the crap that went down, plus the year Nero spent worrying (not outright, duh) about Dante and his father, this wasn’t a terrible outcome.

 

“Well, you asked me to hold onto this until then,” Nero said, speaking to the sleeping man on the bed once more, taking out the booklet that he’d looked at so many times himself. “I guess this is ‘then’.”

 

He placed it next to V, making a disappointed expression at how the man slept on. It was like V was dead to the world. Nero was reassured by the barely noticeable rise and fall of the man’s chest that he in fact, was still alive. He went back to where he’d been watching the man sleep, leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest expectantly.

 

He let another minute or so pass, before deciding that unlike a movie, V wasn’t going to conveniently wake up just as he was about to leave. “... _ dammit _ .”

 

The quarterling demon didn’t know what he wanted. He stared at the form on the bed, wondering, wondering, and continuing to simply wonder without finding any answers. He wasn’t going to get any either, not with the only one capable of giving him said answers being asleep.

 

There wasn’t anything else for Nero to do up there. 

 

He picked himself off the doorframe, giving the sleeping, frail-looking man on the bed one last, long look before making his way downstairs. All the while, Nero stared at his feet, pondering what exactly he’d do when V did wake up.

 

Would he yell at him? He certainly wanted to.

 

Maybe he’d crack a joke and try to ease into talking about his father. Maybe...that is, if he didn’t snap. Shit, he really wanted to hit something right now.

 

He shook his head, finally looking up from his feet as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

 

Nero spotted Dante at the front door, who turned around with three large pizza boxes in one arm and a pleased look on his face. Of course, Dante wasn’t going to share that; not that Nero was in the mood to play ‘keep-away’ with his uncle.

 

_ Ah crap,  _ **_Dante_ ** _ was his  _ **_uncle_ ** _. _

 

“So, what are we gonna do with dad’s inner edgelord?” Nero asked, settling himself up on the corner of Dante’s desk.

 

“Hey. That’s my  _ spot _ ,” Dante scolded, sauntering over with the pizzas, going from pleased to mildly annoyed.

 

Seriously, how was this guy his uncle, Nero wondered. He was just as bad as a kid himself most of the time. Nero vaguely worried about how he was going to turn out when he reached dear-uncle-Dante’s age. It’d taken him just a few minutes to accept the idea, but even with the entire year that’d gone by, it wasn’t getting any easier to really wrap his head around it.

 

The half-devil approached the quarterling with a raised brow. He really ought to smack the kid’s ass like he’d done the first few times he’d done the complete opposite of what Dante had asked him to do. Had it really been six years?

 

Now wasn’t the time, not when they had a rather worrisome guest upstairs.

 

“What? It’s a big desk,” Nero protested.

 

Dante was still the bastard who called him a deadweight for losing an arm, first and foremost in Nero’s mind. Being his uncle came in a very close second place--not that he didn’t appreciate the idea of having been looked after.

 

“Yeah, my spot. All of it.” Dante quickly shooed him away by rounding the desk, dropping the pizza boxes on the free corner and smacking Nero’s ass as hard as he could.

 

Nero flew off the desk--Dante laughed--arms flailing, before he managed to land on his feet across the room in a squat that Dante could fully appreciate the sight of. Kid’s gotten a little beefy, Dante noted. Cute.

 

“Jeez, old man!” Nero yelled, turning around in a fury.

 

Dante grinned and took a seat in his lovely, worn-out chair, propping his feet up at the same time.

 

“Do I have to teach you how and when to sit and be a good boy, all over again?” Dante asked, whistling at Nero like a puppy. 

 

Nero growled. He could easily bitch-slap Dante now, he reckoned. “We both know I’m not the one who needs a babysitter right now.”

 

Dante grunted in surprise when a clawed, glowing, translucent blue hand grabbed at his shirt and hauled him off his feet. Opening his mouth to complain only caused him pain when he felt sharp teeth and tough thick lips against his.

 

Nero snarled, and Dante laughed when the demonic mouth finally let him breathe. He really was still just a kid.

 

“Riled up already?” Dante asked, unimpressed.

 

“Just shut up.” Nero said, scales and armor vanishing, though the clawed wing still kept Dante in place. “You better still be here when I get back.”

 

Dante kissed him.

 

Nero’s eyes went wide, not having expected the returned affection, before Dante shoved him back. “Woah!”

 

“Get going then.” Dante returned to his chair. “ _ I’m _ going to wait for the phone to ring.”

 

Nero raised his arms before dropping them back down in an exasperated gesture. “ _ Seriously _ ?”

 

Nero started towards the door. Stupid Dante with his stupid flirting and the stupid fact they were blood-related. Nero stopped at the door. Shit. They were  _ related _ .

 

“Hey, if you’re leaving, take Mister Poetry with you,” Dante called after him.

 

Nero groaned and spun around. “You kidding? I’m headin’ out on a job. And he’s  _ your _ problem!”

 

“Then pick’em up when you get back.” Dante shrugged.

 

Nero rolled his eyes, Nico was already honking her own horn outside. He yanked the door open and marched right outside. Maybe he wouldn’t come back, just to spite Dante a little for leaving him alone for a year.

 

“Hey, so what happened in there?!” His partner-in-crime asked eagerly.

 

“Well, mister doom-and-gloom with the rockstar tatts is back,” Nero replied, hopping right into the open window.

 

“You know, you could open the door. It does that,” Nico scolded first. “Wait, ya mean V? Hoo-wee! What kinda crazy shit did he bring around this time?!”

 

Nero groaned. “Honestly, I don’t think I even want to know.”

 

Back at his desk, Dante shifted his weight, switching one leg over the other on the desk. He let his head roll back, gaze spinning backwards until he could see the doorway to the bedroom. Nero had left it open. Sighing, Dante got up from his desk and made his way up the stairs to shut the door.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” He asked the sleeping man on the bed.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

**\--- (???? ??, ??.?? ??)**

 

_ Darkness _ .

 

Even in darkness, that one name, shown like ivory against the ebony.

 

_ Dante _ . 

 

There was nothing left but Dante. Not mother. Not father. Not the house. Not the playground. Nobody left. Nobody but the demons. Nothing but…

 

_...power…? _

 

Power...but whatever for? For the sake of history? Surely it was not for the mere sake of a scrimshaw, for a scrimshaw was more than that.

 

To carve one’s name in ivory is to beseech the universe for recognition, like the gratification of being heralded as if one were royalty. Yet, such material things only hold meaning, if there are memories by which such carvings may be recalled.

 

_ However...whose memories were these? _

 

**_“I wanted to be looked after. To be loved...”_ **

 

The thought felt disconnected, like it didn’t belong in the list of priorities Vergil held to close to his chest, like a shield to his heart.

 

He sighed, staring at the psychologically created space around him--a side effect of the Yamato’s power? Most likely. As long as he had gotten away from such an unpleasant situation, it did not matter how.

 

Vergil smirked.

 

“Still so many secrets, father.”

 

It was a waste of time to ponder on the moment that took him away from the consciousness of his own body. Vergil was no stranger to the alien feeling of his soul being separated. 

 

He felt something else--or was it someone? Oh. It was himself, he realized. Of course it was himself, there could only be himself in this place that the Yamato had created. Vergil turned in the direction of the feeling that was bothering him. He felt the part of him that he’d discarded, whole again, entwined into his very being.

 

Stepping slowly, he approached the form, eyes closed, the sharp features reminiscent of his and Dante’s mother. The visage was so...beautiful, so alien, and yet so familiar. It was strange, how he both loathed and did not loathe that face. 

 

“Curious.” Vergil muttered as he raised his hand to touch the form that had found its way back to him.

 

Without this flesh and the emotions, he had become something that was not himself. At the thought, Vergil’s hand stilled just before he made contact with the flesh of his flesh.

 

He did not understand this part of him.

 

He did not understand how it was able to take form without him.

 

He did not understand, how it had gathered the strength to make its way home.

 

_...home? _

 

No. He would not return with Dante, Vergil had already decided that he--!

 

.

.

.

 

**\-- (June 15, 4.30 AM)**

 

Vergil gasped, holding onto the body that pinned him against the bitter cobblestone of the city they had been born in. Above him, inside him, his brother surged, a hungry, snarling thing that needed more and more, and more still.

 

“Ga-AH!” He gasped, the tone of his own voice sounding pathetic, unnatural.

 

Unacceptable. He could not stand the thought of losing, not to anyone--especially not to Dante. Not to his own flesh and blood that had embraced the things he hated about himself.

 

Dante grinned as he felt Vergil tighten around his cock, seeing and feeling himself descend further and further into his primal, lustful urges. The scales on his face burning, the claws that his hands had turned into marking Vergil even further, sinking into the supple flesh of his brother’s thigh as he fucked him.

 

He was close, Dante could tell. He watched gleefully as Vergil’s usually stern and serious face contorted, wide eyes, a gasping mouth, pleasured and pained cries. He admired the way his twin bounced against the concrete street, each time he smacked his own hips against Vergil’s ass.

 

“Vergil--!”

 

Vergil felt it, the blooming warmth that was Dante, who was a mirror of himself, blossoming deep inside of him. He despised that feeling--the feeling of completion that caused him to lose himself. Vergil felt his own climax, peaking as he shuddered--no, he would not accept this memory. Turning his head down, Vergil vowed then and there, he would not accept Dante’s twisted form of affection.

 

Dante gasped, the passion in his voice clear, pressing his face into Vergil’s neck. 

 

He stared at the deeply gouged bites, still fresh with blood that smelled like his own and yet somehow more delicious. Pride swelled in Dante’s chest at the marks he’d left on his other half.

 

The two had become one, a coupling as perverse as the demonic blood in their veins. Unsatisfiable urges to defeat and devour each other over and over again, merely sated, for the moment in their union.

 

Vergil did not feel the tears that exposed his humanity, streaming down his face.

 

The younger of the twins paused, and the expression on his face was exquisite, Vergil decided. Yes, he preferred a look like that; shock, desperation, anger, all mixed into that glorious face that was his own and yet not his own. His brother should always look like that, Vergil thought.

 

“Come on...don’t you dare do this to me, Vergil...” Dante forced a solid hand around his brother’s jaw, tilting his face up.

 

He jerked his hips again, a threat, an invitation to continue into the next round, prying a yelp from Vergil’s lips. But the face was flaking, glowing, changing. 

 

“Dante--!”

 

Vergil was slipping away. 

 

“Look at me!” Dante demanded, desperately trying to bring his twin back from whatever cowardly form of running away he was attempting.

 

Vergil merely pleaded, in a rare moment of weakness he could conveniently forget later. “E-...Enough…! I-I am…”

 

And just like that, the gasping form curled around his hips lightened, a naked, malnourished body took Vergil’s place as the bright blue and white ashes evaporated into nothing. Vergil had run away, again.

 

“Damnit…!” Dante snarled, slowly moving his hand from jawline to nape, carefully cradling the thin man’s head. “Ahh, you son of a bitch, Vergil...just when I thought we made up…”

 

V gasped in Dante’s embrace, pinned underneath his weight. 

 

“What…”

 


	2. Vagabond, Voracious (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Well, here we are! I was supposed to wait to update this, but what the heck. I might have to organize different schedules for my DMC stuff VS my RE stuff (and micromanage my RE stuff since there’s more than one series there KILL ME) but ehhh…
> 
> THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR @AShyCryptid FOR BETA-ING FOR ME! I’D NEVER HAVE GOTTEN THROUGH THIS WITHOUT YOU! (you can follow her twitter as well via that name, she posts and RTs a lot of DMC and RE stuff <3 The GOOD STUFF)!
> 
> We get SMUT in this chapter! And some bonding. I hope. Read on?
> 
> If you’re interested in interacting with me further, please follow me on @HPrincess06 on Twitter! I have it open everyday now that tumblr has been DEAD for awhile...
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06

**\--- (???? ??, ??.?? ??)**

 

_ Darkness _ .

 

Even in darkness, that one name, shown like ivory against the ebony.

 

_ Dante _ . 

 

There was nothing left but Dante. Not mother. Not father. Not the house. Not the playground. Nobody left. Nobody but the demons. Nothing but…

 

Darkness. Memories. Nightmares. Guilt. 

 

These things were all that V was. He had known that from the moment he was born. The urge to survive had only led to more pain. These things, the darkness, the memories, the nightmares and the guilt, the product of these did not deserve a name.

 

**_“I have no name. I am but two days old.”_ **

 

In truth, those words had been but deception to both himself and the other born of Sparda. Though they shared the same flesh, they had not shared the same blood. But what of the heart?

 

The beating of both Dante’s and Vergil’s hearts had always been like those of a bird’s wings, perfectly in sync. Both demonic blood and human emotion, forever fated to be in tandem. What then, of a heart that was weak and purely human?

 

Surely, without his second half, V could not hope to understand Dante. After all, Dante was both man and demon. Whilst he was simply man. Weak, but stubborn man.

 

Perhaps it was such a feeling of disparity between their two beings--Dante, half demon, and himself, barely a human, that he refused to be called Vergil to begin with. Though he had chosen only a letter, barely sufficient as a label, it was still too luxurious for one such as himself.

 

V had known from the very moment of his birth, that he was barely anything at all.

 

And yet, there was a bitter relief that the last atrocity he could recall for Vergil’s sake, had been entirely the ‘other half’s’ doing. At least now that they were one again, there could be some form of honesty within this half-demon named Vergil.

 

**_“I wanted to be looked after. To be loved...”_ **

 

Such words...if only he’d been honest from the beginning. There was nothing left now, however, but to fade into non-existence. Just memories, after all. V was nothing but memories.

 

**_“I remember now... this town, had been attacked once before… yes. I was right here. That was the house.”_ **

 

Yes, he had been terrified of demons. They’d taken everything from him, from Dante. Any semblance of normalcy for either of them was lost. 

 

Well, there was still love there, no matter how twisted, V thought.

 

**_“...but I had no choice but to survive.”_ **

 

Had partaking in the pleasures of the flesh really been a form of survival? For the survival of what? His humanity? Perhaps… _ that woman _ had noticed his pain then.

 

Oh, yes.  _ That woman _ had loved him, V thought. How else could they had sired Nero if not for the sake of love? Perhaps Vergil had been too blind to see it, V thought.

 

Foolish. Even in the form of nothing but the flesh of man, he had not realized it. His face, his grin--the boy had looked like both of them, and yet neither of them at the same time.

 

**_“The boy…”_ **

 

Ah yes. The  _ Boy _ . He did recall referring to Nero as that. How had he forgotten...there was indeed, one other, than Dante, he thought.

 

No. That was not right.

 

_ V should not have been able to think. _

 

And yet, the words came to the forefront of his being. Being? Did he...exist? Was he, right now, in this very moment, existing?

 

Words came from thought, and then are borne to page. Yet to survive and press on, man often drew--often even  _ tore _ \--words right from page in order to breathe into them meaning and purpose. For idle hands do the devil’s work, and yet, those who desire but do not act fall into ruin.

 

_...whose hands were these? _

  
  


**.**

 

**.**

 

**.**

 

**\-- (June 18, 12.07 PM)**

 

V awoke to the sight of bright white light, and the feeling of soft, feathery sheets. There, before him was his own hand, lithe in frame and as frail in appearance as in his own memories.

 

_...whose hands were these? Why, they were his own. _

 

The thought prompted V to curl his finger inward, feeling the sheets. This was real.

 

Memories that returned, not unlike a violent torrential storm. They struck like waves, tossing his mind into a spiral of emotions and thoughts he had almost forgotten he had been capable of feeling and mulling over.

 

“ _ Nero...is my son. _ ” The words felt foreign on V’s tongue--numbing, like spoiled medicine. 

 

His lips pressed together and drew back in an expression of agony. Sitting up, the wiry man found himself in a small, rather unkempt room. A place to retire for the night, and nothing more, he surmised. The aroma of a familiar Italian dish that consisted of cheddar and other toppings alongside the scent of well-worn leather was unmistakable.

 

The words did not feel right. However, the odour of pizza and leather seemed to sooth the terrible taste in his mouth.

 

“May I ask why it is that you brought me here?” V spoke, slowly raising his head to direct his words at the man who had already been standing behind the closed door in front of the bed he sat upon.

 

The door opened with an old, weathered creak whose sound resonated with the appropriate tiredness V felt from his skin to his bones. A feeling that persisted, despite the clear fact that he should not have been, let alone been able to feel at all, either physically or emotionally.

 

“Sure.” Dante’s voice was cheery, however, there was an undertone and bitter taste to it. “But first, you’re gonna tell me what you’re doing here.”

 

“I desperately wish that I was able to do so,” V replied in defeat, finally conceding to his situation. “I am as vexed about this predicament as you are, Dante.”

 

Dante just shrugged. Neither of them had answers, and pushing it any further didn’t look like it was going to help at all. He found it hard to hold any grudges against V, it was Vergil he had beef with.

 

“I suppose I should be thanking you, for not leaving me behind.” V’s voice was like a slow, sultry groan of tiredness.

 

Hell, V could literally  _ be _ ‘tired’ if ‘tired’ was a person. But he wasn’t. He was Vergil, but as far as Dante could tell, Vergil didn’t share the same sentiments as the man with the rather gloomy fashion in comparison. Damn shame, Dante thought, staring at the man on his bed, bundled up in the warmest quilt he could find. He looked like a newborn, Dante thought whimsically.

 

“Mayhaps I owe you an apology as well. Honesty has never been my strongest suit.” V looked at the book that had been placed in his lap while he was asleep, as he sat on the bed. 

 

His hands were covered in tattoos. No, this was wrong. They should not have been marked with the hellish promises that were given to him by his familiars. He should not have familiars.

 

...Dante had killed his familiars.

 

“That’s an understatement,” Dante grunted. “At least Vergil kept secrets instead of lying.”

 

The look on V’s face told Dante that he’d hit a nerve. Okay. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but it was out of his mouth now, too late to eat his own words. Really though, the skinny guy wasn’t the most unpleasant of company so Dante’d give him a pass when it came to the bad one-liners and the cane-dancing.

 

...on second thought, maybe he should teach V to do some other dance that wasn’t too old-fashioned for his tastes. Dante didn’t like the thought of having an old man in his bed.

 

“Well, you would’ve probably caught a cold and keeled over like an old man,” Dante remarked casually, waving V off. “You can thank me by payin’ up for that last job.”

 

V was grateful that Dante had moved on from the subject of Vergil’s secrets. Whilst he knew everything and yet nothing, he did not yet know what were the things Dante had needed to know. Even if he did, he was not certain he would divulge them. Especially now, when the situation he was in was troubling.

 

Everything about this was wrong. He should not be, let alone be alongside Shadow, Griffon, and Nightmare. In fact, it felt...different. It felt like a dream.

 

_ He could not hear the whispers of terror in Vergil’s voice that he always did, when his familiars were bound into his skin, flesh, and bone. _

 

It would be wise not to panic, V thought. Instead, he turned his attention to Dante.

 

“Yes, that would be appropriate. My apologies for the delay.” V sighed, more of that sultry, tired tone.

 

That could get on Dante’s nerves real quick, especially with what happened a year ago. No, Dante, picking on a scrawny guy who didn’t have his pets around to protect himself was bullying, Dante reminded himself.

 

“Great, so-”

 

_ Snap! _ went V’s fingers.

 

The sound of hundreds of heavy, tiny objects made Dante shut his trap, before it could fall open in shock. Coins appeared from burning black ash in mid-air, in the middle of the small room and fell onto the floor in a cascade of glittering gold. There was easily enough to fill a medium-sized junk trunk with.

 

“...well.” was all Dante could say.

 

Figured Vergil would be loaded, that stingy miser. They used to share everything together too.  _ What a miser. _

 

Despite his complaints, Dante was more than happy to be picking the coins of the floor in fistfuls and quickly emptying a box of actual junk to put them in.

 

“I know it is only a small chestful, however my memories of where the rest of the demon gold is stored are vague.” V’s yawn-like voice sounded genuine and not arrogant for once; a large but thin hand went to rub its thumb and forefinger into his eyes to try and clear some of the haze from them.

 

“Yeah uh, I think we’re good,” Dante quickly said, completely forgetting how upset he’d been just a few minutes ago, now too busy wondering how many pizzas and strawberry sundaes he could buy with this much gold.

 

….after the bills were paid, of course.

 

“One Sundae.” Dante suddenly said as he turned to stash the gold somewhere out of sight. 

 

V’s hand dropped and his mouth parted in a look of confusion. “Pardon me?”

 

Jeez, did this guy have to sound like such an old man? He had a pretty face, he could at least say something cool for once, Dante thought.

 

“You still owe me one sundae,” Dante clarified. “Take me out for one when you can get out of bed. Uh, also, make sure you do get out of  _ my _ bed. I like my bed.”

 

The thought from before returned to V. It was true; he did not quite understand Dante, despite being half of the man’s other half. He suppose that a quarter of a being wasn’t worth much, afterall. Dwelling on it would do him no good.

 

“You could have placed me elsewhere,” V advised. 

 

Dante shrugged; knowing just how his brother could be, in contrast, V was much more easy-going and less demanding. In fact, thinking about it now, V was almost nothing like Vergil. 

 

...yeah, that was weird.

 

The sour mood Dante’d had earlier was completely gone at this point. In fact, spending time with V and comparing him to his twin brother was turning out to actually be quite amusing. 

 

Hmm...maybe his honeymoon plans didn’t have to go to waste after all, Dante thought with glee.

 

\---

 

Nero grunted, nearly flying forward when Nico whipped the van around causing it to spin a couple rounds. He grabbed the seat and the dashboard, seeing the great, black shadow that flashed outside the windshield view. 

 

“Woah!” Nico braked and the van screeched to a stop, teetering off its side for awhile.

 

Without prompting, Nero leapt out the window, landing on his feet and looking up, looking for what caused the massive shadow.

 

“Hah...it’s gone…!” Nero announced, when he spotted nothing.

 

But it was obvious that there had been something there. Large, similarly-shaped pieces that must have detached themselves from whatever it was, still floating down towards him. They danced in the air, as if they barely weighed anything.

 

“Huh...what are those?” Nero asked aloud.

 

Nico poked her head out of the van, looking up. “Looks...kinda like feathers?”

 

“Huh, so we’re dealing with a bird-brain then.” Nero concluded, smirking at his own joke.

 

He turned back to return to the van when Nico gestured with a jerk of her chin behind him. Nero spun back around, frowning, then spotting what Nico had been gesturing to. Hands, hundreds and hundreds of them, some clawed, some rotting, some looking as if they were melting. Hands from hell, or something like that.

 

“Huh, that’s new.” Nero made a face. “Gross.”

 

They came at him in waves, one after the other, just waves and waves of hands, like an ocean. Nero whipped the Red Queen around his head, revving her up and swiping at the air. Flames, one after another flew towards the small ocean of hands, waves meeting waves.

Hellish screams erupted from the victims of the Queen’s fire.

 

“What? I thought these things came from the Underworld? Is it cold down there or something?” Nero joked, turning as Nico tossed him a new Devil Breaker.

 

Switching to reverse, Nico quickly moved the van out of harm’s way, when another set of waves suddenly burst through the building to their left. “Whoo-weee! Nice try, baby!”

 

“Come on, you’ve already got one dance partner!” Nero taunted, drawing attention of the ocean quickly surrounding them.

 

Leaping into the air as the red, bloodied hands closed around him, he spun around, slicing at the climbing waves.

 

“Come on!”

  
  


.

 

.

 

.

**\--- (15 June, 4.04 pm)**

 

Vergil turned; Dante mimicking his own speed--no, the speed that they both had inherited from their father--he’d vanished and reappeared behind him in less than a moment’s breath. 

 

A hand, too much like his own, grasped at the arm which held the Yamato. Persistent, eager lips pressed against his own, a mirror image pressed against a mirror’s likeness. 

 

_ Dante had always been vehement. _

 

Joined at the mouth, the two were one being once more, just like they had been before they were born. It did not matter who had been born first, not when it came to the two sons of Sparda.

 

What mattered was that Dante would always find Vergil, and Vergil would always come looking for Dante. They were drawn to each other like gems cut from the same stone--cursed to always seek until they found. And, when they did find each other, destined to dance in a ritual of devouring each other, as much as they could.

 

Vergil attempted to lop Dante’s head off his shoulders in exchange for the kiss. There was no way he would agree to spreading his legs after just being resurrected, right after wandering the Underworld for at least a decade.  _ No, some other time, Dante. Not today. _

 

In response, Dante brought his own self-named sword against the Yamato. The larger blade toyed with the other one inherited from their father, fixing the Yamato in a deadlock that was just, to both of them, an embrace.  _ Come on, Vergil. It’s been years. I’ve missed you. _

 

**Clang** !  _ I’ll be gentle!  _

 

**Clang** !  _ I won’t be! _

 

**Clang** !  _ I missed you! _

 

**_Clang_ ** !  _ Then you-- _ **_Clang_ ** _!--take a turn! _

 

**_Clang_ ** !  _ What? No way! _ \-- **_Clang_ ** !-- _ Think of it as a reward for looking after your kid! _

 

**_CLANGGGG_ ** **!!**

 

The brothers flew back from the grapple their swords’ words had with each other. Dante, ever-the-careless one, managed to find himself bouncing off a wall of tree bark before falling to the wooden floor. Vergil, ever-the-dignified one, managed to land on his feet--somewhat--before getting up.

 

“Nero...is my son!” He yelled in response to Dante’s taunt.

 

“No shit, dumbass!” Dante responded, upset that Vergil had broken their sexy-sword-talk dance. Dante loved that dance. 

 

Talking through blades was the perfect form of post-reunion foreplay. Besides, Dante was still kind of jealous that Vergil had held someone else, intimately enough to have a kid.

 

_ “Well, well...that was a long time ago.” _

 

Vergil always had to ruin everything--especially the romantic mood.

  
  
  


.

 

.

 

.

 

**\--- (18 June, 1 year later, 2.02 PM)**

 

Vergil always had to ruin everything--especially their rare, romantic reunions.

 

...but that didn’t mean Dante had to let their honeymoon plans go to waste.

 

“I did not think you had been entirely serious.” V’s brows raised, staring at the distastefully gaudy restaurant. 

 

The building must have been at least twice Dante’s age, V thought. What an absolutely awful location for any sort of outing.

 

“You agreed to one Strawberry Sundae.” Dante chuckled. “Come on, I got us a balcony seat so you can breathe.”

 

V pressed his lips together hard. “Your consideration is...touching. If not a little insulting.”

 

They ventured in, Dante holding the door open for V and smirking a little too much for V’s liking. However, an agreement was an agreement, and V had indeed, agreed to the Sundae. Dante had been considerate enough to exchange some of the demon gold for actual, modern day currency--though V suspected it had been Morrison who went through the actual trouble of doing so. For that, V supposed that he should show some consideration in return.

 

Upon reaching the stairs to the higher level, V’s brow quirked in annoyance. They were surrounded by people here and he did not think it wise to summon any of his familiars in such a situation.

 

The stairs however, were not something V wanted to deal with. Not when he still felt so...misplaced.

 

“Up you go, princess…!” Dante quipped as he swooped V into his arms and proceeded to carry him up the stairs.

 

V bit his lip, preventing himself from crying out in embarrassment. What?! What was Dante doing?!

 

Thin arms, thinner than Dante thought possible for any human, threw themselves reflexively around Dante’s shoulders. They fit a little better than Vergil’s did. Then again, Vergil only had his arms around Dante when he was trying to choke him, throw him, or suplex him. Maybe Dante should try and get Vergil to cling onto him like this for proper comparison. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair to either his brother or V, would it? 

 

Vergil may be a half-devil, but as far as Dante could tell, V was as squishy as humans came. No, squishier. Or, well, twiggier? He was pretty much just a bag of bones, so Dante supposed that meant he wasn’t very squishy.

 

“Dante…!” V finally hissed, “Enough!”

 

Dante snorted, only letting V back down when they had reached the top of the stairs. V pushed himself away from Dante, using his cane to smack the other man’s hand off his leg as it retreated.

 

“I am not your brother, Dante,” V remarked.

 

“Yeah, you’re half my brother. So that makes this a first date.” Dante smiled.

 

V was not going to enjoy this.

 

Dante gestured to a table on the very edge of the balcony, and that was when V took in the view. The restaurant was situated at the top of a hill, viewing a magnificent mountain range. 

 

“We’re at an old place that some rich guy abandoned months ago. Something about moving to Arklay for some research.” Dante waved off. “Some friend of Morrison’s was owed money and he got this place instead. Italian.”

 

“How quaint,” V commented, sitting down. 

 

That explained the restaurant’s appearance. In fact, it was a little too romantic for V’s liking. 

 

“Dante, I am aware of your...proclivities,” V began. “Particularly when it concerns Vergil and...his son.”

 

Dante waved over the single waiter that was on standby. “Hey, can we get some pizza. Lots of cheese, whatever you have that’s got lots of cheese. And everything else on it.”

 

V continued, “I understand the kind of affections demonkind is accustomed to, and how it has skewed your understanding of relationships.”

 

“Yeah?” Dante asked, turning back to the waiter. “Don’t mind him, he doesn’t get enough sun. Or food. Oh, two strawberry sundaes too! And a strawberry milkshake to wash down the sundae--uh, V? Water?”

 

“..........That would be fine,” V replied, already tired. 

 

“Rose water.” Dante finished.

 

V watched as the waiter left, though he’d opted to bring out his little book and began rereading what was written in it from the beginning. Dante would not be easy to converse with, he knew that. The half-devil was the kind of man to cut straight to the point. V opened his mouth to do just that, when Dante interrupted him with a question.

 

“Hey, babe,” Dante called from across the table. “You read shakespeare?”

 

“I am familiar with his work but it held little meaning.” V replied, completely ignoring the nickname. “This book contains the work of William Blake.”

 

Dante smirked mischievously. “To  _ you _ , or  _ Vergil _ ?”

 

V paused, brows furrowed. He lowered his book and drew his gaze to Dante.

 

The half-devil smiled, watching the way V’s eyelashes fluttered as he blinked in confusion at Dante’s words. Knowing exactly what V was had given Dante the chance to fully observe the differences between his twin and the man across from him. 

 

“I do not understand,” V admitted, looking perturbed at his own lack of information.

 

“Yeah, I figured,” Dante chuckled.

 

Honestly, having V make an expression Dante didn’t think he’d ever seen on the man before was kinda fun. A year ago, V had been all arrogant and secretive, spouting mysterious one-liners and walking around like some goth king. Now that the big secret was out, V was just as confused as the rest of them regarding the situation. It was refreshing.

 

“So, what does V like?” Dante asked, leaning forward on the table.

 

V stared, that look of confusion remaining on his face. “Dante.”

 

“I’ve been asking myself that question ever since I found out. Also, what’s it like living in Vergil’s head?” Dante asked.

 

“It does not quite work like that,” V replied, shifting to an exasperated look. “As per the answer to your question, I just told you.”

 

V had more expressions in his eyes than Vergil had in his entire body. Man, Vergil really needed to let up on the whole devil thing, Dante thought. 

 

“...woah, seriously?” Dante replied after a pause, he tilted his head an amusement. “ _ Me _ ?”

 

V was slightly more honest than Vergil was, too, Dante noted with glee. It made sense. From his little talk with Trish after he’d brought the man home in place of Vergil, Dante learned that he had been whom V had first sought out. As far as Dante was concerned, he had been Vergil’s only option even when he’d been split apart by the Yamato.

 

Romantic, Dante thought.

 

Though, Dante could tell from the way the man shifted his weight to lean back further into the seat, he was about to change the subject. So V was shy, despite his airy and lofty demeanor. Dante had disregarded how stupidly persistent the man had been, pushing himself in spite of how his body had been falling apart. In hindsight, it was so much like Vergil for V to push himself beyond his limits to gain what he wanted.

 

That was adorable.

 

“I was expecting to fade into nothing,” V explained, looking at his own hand. “Though as you can see, circumstances did not quite go the way I had expected.”

 

Failing to vanish into non-existence was nothing compared to the agony Dante experienced when his honeymoon plans with Vergil were ruined. Still, Dante was grateful to have V as an unexpected surprise, especially when the man was so awkwardly interesting on a date.

 

“Yeah, you took us on quite the ride last time.” Dante snorted, raising his hand and flicking his wrist.

 

V flinched--rather embarrassingly--when a bright red rose materialized out of thin air, shining like a crimson gem, before landing on the book he held in his hand. The wink Dante gave him next had something inside his chest rise out of the stillness behind his ribcage.

 

Dante smirked, growing hungrier with every passing minute he spent staring at what little tattooed skin peaked through the thick, oversized leather coat. What. A. Small. Guy.

 

The pizza arrived, alongside their drinks and unsurprisingly, Dante offered V the first slice. He showilly yanked the triangular finger-food off the large wooden plate, pulling the cheese into long, thick, hot, dripping strands.

 

“Italy’s finest?” Dante tempted.

 

“Thank you, however I will have to kindly refuse.” V responded without so much as looking up from his book.

 

“Sure? You could use some meat on those bones.” Dante taunted. “Wouldn’t want you to snap a hip on the way down those stairs, assuming I’m not allowed to carry you.”

 

“I thank you for your concern. But it is not a lack of physical sustenance that has caused the human part of Vergil to waste away into the sorry state you see before you.” 

 

“Never gave you enough attention?” Dante asked outright.

 

How typical, V thought. “I suppose that would be one way of wording it.”

 

“Is that why I got so old so fast? Maybe I should be feeding my demon side a little more tender loving.” the half-demon joked through a mouthful of pizza.

 

“Surely you do not think that.” V managed a small, wry smile.

 

“You think I’m funny?” Dante asked, leaning forward with interest as he reached for his fifth slice.

 

“I find you amusing, yes.” V confirmed, shutting his book and taking a sip of his rose water. “....peculiar.”

 

“As V, or as Vergil?” Dante questioned.

 

The tone of mischief in Dante’s voice disturbed V, forcing him to put away his booklet. He considered summoning Griffon to fly him away from the preturbing situation, however decided it would not be wise to flee from a son of Sparda--knowing what a half-demon was capable of very intimately.

 

“It seems that you are as stubborn as my memories serve.” V remarked, “I, at this moment, find you amusing.”

 

“So, as V?” Dante asked, grinning after swallowing yet more pizza.

 

V raised a troubled brow when the table suddenly lurched forward, he jumped back in his seat, just enough for the table not to collide with his gut. His face rose to give Dante an unimpressed look.

 

Dante had jumped onto the table, and was now sitting, cross-legged, right here his cane had been. He was holding the cane.

 

“Sorry,” Dante half-heartedly apologized. “Had to see if I could get him to come out.”

 

V lowered his chin, still amused--there was nary anything about Dante or Nero, or, in fact, any of the curious bunch he’d met a year ago that could annoy him. “What, pray tell, do you mean?”

 

“Vergil, o’course.” Dante grinned, leaning down towards V.

 

V felt that bubbling mischief inside of him, something he thought must have been from Vergil and Dante’s mother; something both Vergil and Dante inherited. 

 

“Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be,” V rose from his seat to walk around Dante, eyes on the man who stayed seated on the table. “For the gentle wind does move.”

 

The wiry man stopped only once he was behind Dante. He leaned over the man, placing his spidery hands across the broad back and leaning his chin on the blood-colored leather at Dante’s shoulder.

 

“Silently...” He uttered with a sweet whisper in Dante’s ear. “Invisibly.”

 

Dante frowned. He wasn’t one for nonsense poems. Or, at least, poems he himself considered nonsense. He turned, and in a blur of red and black, V was on the table fitting in the space that was barely enough between their seats, the food, and the drink.

 

He was so frail-looking, even now, even when he wasn’t decaying anymore, Dante thought. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

V did not answer, but a pained expression on his face told Dante that there were too many things to say for words.

 

“That idiot…” Dante sighed heavily, a sound that was more of a growl than a sigh. 

 

V stared up at the man, the mirror image of his full self looking pained and conflicted. It was a terrible look, one that drew his hand to Dante’s face in an effort to comfort him. Trish’s words echoed in his head at his own actions.

 

_ ‘I’m not your mommy, V.’ _

 

The thought made V laugh, a small chuckle--the only sort of laugh he was capable of. It was too heavy, all of it, everything that had happened up until this point--the memories, the pain, the denial, the darkness--having been shut up inside Vergil to decay and become nothing but flesh to serve Vergil’s personal demons had made V inexperienced.

 

“You really do remember.” A rare and fleeting look of surprise crossed Dante’s face. “How mother used to do that..”

 

V’s hand stopped, having tucked Dante’s hair behind his ear, so that he could see the man’s face. 

 

In all of Vergil’s wisdom that V had been left with, there had been nothing on how to deal with someone like Dante.

 

For his part, Dante couldn’t help himself. That same, monstrous urge inside of him--inside of both himself and Vergil rose, burning like a wildfire that couldn’t be tamed. He fought the urge, glaring daggers down at V who’d realized what Dante was feeling, and had frozen on the spot.

 

Moving without thought, V raised his hand and bit his pinky finger, staring at Dante, breathing suddenly weighed by the same, hungry feeling.

 

Dante swallowed at the sight.

  
  


.

 

.

 

.

**\-- (June 18, 7.04 PM)**

 

V had expected this. Knowing Dante both as himself and as Vergil, he knew how any form of interaction between them would eventually end if Dante had his way.

 

“Breathe, V…” Dante panted, arms shaking with full effort in resisting the urge to grip any tighter.

 

“I...need…” V heaved, ribcage rising and falling at a rapid pace. “Dante...I beg you...I…”

 

At this moment, Dante was having his way. “Slowly, deep breaths…” 

 

V bit his lip, pressing his face into the crook of Dante’s shoulder, ankles locked behind Dante’s hips, purely out of the need to not have his legs fail him completely. Wetness engulfed his entire face from the tears that seemed to endlessly flood from his eyes.

 

He heaved, one slow, deep breath.

 

They’d barely gotten through the door before Dante gave himself into the urge completely, cornering V against the front desk without so much as bothering to make sure the door was closed.

 

Dante turned his head, nuzzling into black, wavy locks, taking in the small, shuddering sniffles as V tried his best to relax. Dante was one hundred percent sure by this point, that ‘V’ was for ‘virgin’.

 

“It is...too much…” V gasped. “Dante...to take you in would be...”

  
At least, it had been.

 

If Dante had held Vergil like this, and Vergil done the same more than once, did that mean V remembered all those times? Did that count as having held V before?

 

“Impossible? Vergil says the same thing,” Dante chuckled, pressing his lips gently into V’s neck. “But for you, V? Let’s find out.”

 

He didn’t even need to look down to see himself plunge into the body he held--something he always did when it had been Vergil, the sight made it all feel real. But this felt real. The delicate, exposed part of Vergil’s soul, his brother and yet not his brother in the form of V was someone both he and Vergil did not know.

 

He was honored to get to know the man--the human--who’d named himself V this intimately, sooner than Vergil could. Dante slowly pushed his hips forward, feeling V’s legs shudder around him as he entered further. Such lithe thighs had no business being so attractively delicate.

 

V gasped, feeling Dante prying, pushing, widening him in a way he could not recall ever feeling before. The discarded flesh --given life, though not new-- was not accustomed to such an intrusion.

 

“Ah-...!” V felt his lower stomach fill, stretching, the pressure causing a pain that he only vaguely recognized.

 

Dante moved down to rub V’s delicate thighs reassuringly as he pushed in another inch of himself into the frail tightness that was V. The ankles around his hips twitched, and Dante imagined just how V’s toes were curling and twitching behind him.

 

“You’re so small…” Dante whispered.

 

“D-Dante…” V gasped, returning to his rapidfire breathing. “You are...too…”

 

“Shh, I know. It’s huge.” Dante grinned. “You trying to drive me over the edge? I was going to be gentle, but someone had to ruin my escapade idea.”

 

V struggled with the feelings, welling up inside of him. He felt whole, but bursting, sated and yet hungering, afraid of what fornication with a half-demon would do to his frail body, and yet shuddering in pleasure at the thought of Dante being inside of him.

 

“A-are you...punishing me?” V choked when he felt the girth inside him slide out. “F-for...my crimes?”

 

The question was heavy; loaded with more than just the words of a man lost in the feeling of being penetrated. On how large of a pile of sins would this sin be placed on top of?

 

“Vergil’s, you mean,” Dante corrected, jerking his hips out of need, losing control for just a moment.

 

“I am…-!” V began to protest, but was interrupted by Dante’s lips devouring his. “Mh-..nn...!”

 

The hungry tongue in his mouth withdrew, moving to drink up the tears that had only continued to flow through their coupling. V thought about how voracious Dante had become. He wondered, sniffling through his thoughts, trying to will his overwhelmed body to move so that he could take a look at Dante’s face.

 

“A’Course not.” The cocky voice was accompanied by a devilish grin that was characteristic only of Dante.

 

“Ouh-!” V cried out, the shaft inside of him suddenly surging forth whilst he had been distracted.

 

Dante’s chiselled hips slapped against the dainty, little ass. “That’s all of it, baby…”

 

V’s entire body shook, and he continued to whimper into Dante, pressing his forehead against the man’s chest when the half-devil heaved them both further onto the desk, putting a knee down next to his hip in preparation for the intercourse to come. The new position pulled V’s delicate legs open wider, the thickness inside him striking deeper.

 

“Auh!” V finally exclaimed, a broken howl that turned his ears even redder than they were.

 

Dante ate up the sound, moving to graze his teeth against V’s skin.

 

Gasping, unable to thrash, not wanting to refuse Dante’s desire or his own, V could only whimper, jaw falling open in shock at the sight of his own abdomen fattened in a subtle way that was barely noticeable. Judging from how deep Dante was buried within him, he knew what the sight was.

 

“Nh...nh...mm…” V whimpered continuously, momentarily lost for words.

 

“My name...V…” Dante whispered lovingly. “Just my name…”

 

“Da…” V tried, gasping and heaving.

 

Dante pressed himself against the smaller body harder, feeling his control slipping as it had so many times when he’d been as high as he was now.

 

The teeth at V’s neck turned into fangs, teasing skin and threatening to break through into his flesh. Sharp fangs, hellish, dark, hungry, demonic, voracious…

 

“AAH-!” V cried out, his whimpering suddenly broken by the wail.

 

The frail man bawled, drawing his thighs in, terror suddenly piercing him with the thought of being bitten by a demon. He grappled, ankles and hands sliding and slipping against the armored skin, unable to stay still out of pure terror.

 

“Dan...te….! Da...D-d….” V’s lips refused to move the way he desired them to. “Da...aa….aa…!”

 

Dante drew his fangs back, replacing them with lips. “Sorry, sorry V...shh...hey it’s me...it’s me…”

 

“Dante…Dante…” V sniffled, feeling the soft hair, the scraggly stubble and realized it was Dante.

 

“Shh...shh...it’s alright. It’s me. It’s me…” Dante reassured kissing the flesh on V’s neck and shoulder that he could find. “It’s me, V…”

 

He tried desperately to hold onto his sanity, the way V unintentionally massaged around him making it difficult. Dante never had to be this gentle with anyone before, especially not Vergil. But the man who clenched and unclenched nervously around him, driving him closer and closer to the edge without the least bit of physical effort, was entirely new. 

 

Dante’s concentration lapsed for a moment, and he jerked his hips out of need.

 

“DANTE!” V’s voice became shrill, when the heaviness pushed up into him suddenly left him, sliding out from his spread legs.

 

“Shh, shh…” Dante kissed him, again and again, angling the tip of his cock before slowly sliding himself back into the heat as carefully as he could. “Shit, I’m sorry…”

 

“Dante...no...do not leave me…” V implored, weak legs trying desperately to pull Dante back inside of him.

 

“Heh…” Dante smirked, relieved that V still wanted him.

 

Dante was glad that things had turned out the way they had--that V had been who and what he turned out to be. It explained the fire in his gut when he first laid eyes on the slender man, leaning against the wall next to the door, staring at an all-too-familiar book. He’d wanted to ask about the book, but the memory of Vergil’s hands around it had been too vague for him to have been sure enough to ask.

 

Dante complied after V had pulled and tugged and begged for a moment longer, pushing himself back to the slippery warmth inside of V.

 

“Dan...te…” V had returned to simpering, mouth falling open in a way that made his lips look like velvety flower petals.

 

The man’s crying face was something Dante could appreciate. It wasn’t just new, but it was so lost and confused and yet there V was, entrusting his body--the only thing he truly had in the world--into Dante’s hungry, greedy hands. A body that was Vergil's and yet had thought, had felt, had moved, had laughed, had spoken, all with a will of its own.

 

“Damn...you’re too tight,” Dante concluded, beginning a slow, gentle rhythm he himself was unfamiliar with.

 

V arched, biting him thick bottom lip, his middle filling out with each thrust. “Dante...Dante...I beg you…”

 

Fuck. That had to be a sin--literally using the word ‘beg’ in such a way had to be a sin. Dante tried to convince himself of that with how V’s words caused his erect dick to twitch inside the man. Dante repeated the slow thrusts, sinking his own front fangs--which he had failed to retract--into his lip at the constricting tightness. He’d never fucked anyone so damn tight, and so damn cute, and so damn fragile and yet so damn good at ensnaring him without even trying.

 

V was more than simply sexy, he was charming, captivating, even.

 

Slow, quiet slaps filled Dante’s ears alongside V’s just as quiet sobs and tears sounded loud in the quiet of the office. Dante shivered at the thought of never having done anything like this in the office like this before. 

 

“I beg you...aah-...I beg…! Y-you…” V chanted, in place of the word ‘please’.

 

“Goddammit V…” Dante growled, thankful his voice still sounded human, lest he terrify the man again. “You’re so...damn…”

 

V held onto Dante, inhaling hard against the man’s shoulder, through the leather and the cotton shirt, a scent that could only purely be Dante weighed him down as much as Dante’s body on top of him.

 

“Mm-!” V bit into the shoulder he found solace in, the pressure inside of him becoming unbearable.

 

Dante’s heat and heaviness pushed in and slid out, repeatedly stretching his very being to its limits. V could feel his hips creaking against the invasion, entirely unused to such an experience. He could feel vague touches, ghosts of Vergil’s own memories of when he and Dante had fornicated, but this was too much. 

 

This would serve as his own memory.

 

“Da...a...aa...ah...ah…!” V’s voice remained just as small and quiet and delicate as his shuddering form underneath Dante, grasping at the leather jacket above him in desperation. “I...will...shatter…!”

 

The high-pitched tone in V’s ever-begging voice caused Dante to still. 

 

A searing heat suddenly unleashing like a torrent inside of V’s core. He gasped, what little strength was in his limbs completely failed him, his hands slowly slipping from Dante’s back. He felt himself shudder, bones thrumming against the wood of the desk, before the tightness in his gut released.

 

V gasped, shocked at the fact that he had spilled his own seed. He had climaxed at the feeling of being seeded by Dante.

 

“Hey…” Dante panted, still coming down from his own peak, grasping at one of V’s hands. “You still with me? You alright?”

 

V’s long lashes fluttered, like butterflies fighting a strong breeze. He gazed up at the half-devil, whose size still pierced his stomach, and whose heat burned within him. He was lost, not just in circumstance, but also for words to say.

 

_ Vergil never had any words for Dante after the time they spent in fiery embrace. _

 

Dante thought he was really catching whatever poetic, Alighierian disease V must have had to look so hellishly gorgeous.

 

“Dante…” was all V could manage, his own seed decorating the black tattoos on the canvas of his torso in a white pattern of its own.

 

_ Damn _ .

 

Dante had a new vice.

 

V shuddered, his thoughts muddled, insides churning. His lower abdomen throbbed with heat and ghosts of Dante’s deep thrusts.

 

The girth inside of him had not subsided. V had not expected it to.

 

“Dante…” he breathed, exhaling into Dante’s soft strands.

 

V had no memory of Dante’s scent being his sweet. He and Vergil had always copulated after a long, drawn-out battle. V knew blood and tears, fangs and claws.

 

Dante couldn’t muster a response. His entire body shook with effort, restraining himself. Unlike after an extended period of combat, he had energy to spare: especially in the devil-department. Energy, that was raging and tearing at his restraint to be expelled.

 

He needed to fuck.

 

“Dante…” V’s voice rang dull in his ear.

 

He needed to eat.

 

“Dante..” V’s fingers threaded through his hair.

 

He needed to  **_breed_ ** !

 

“Dante…” V’s beguiling lips encouragingly pressed against his collarbone.

 

Dante snapped his hips back, growling, hands releasing V, digging into the desk.

 

“OH-!” V gasped, feeling the slick friction at his sodomized entrance. His thighs jerked from the sting of Dante leaving him.

 

“GHH…!” Dante gritted his fangs, guilt at causing V pain welling up in them, serving as extra strength to fight off his urge.

 

Even when restrained, the strength of Dante’s fingers dug in like claws, splintering the wood.

 

V caressed Dante’s face gently, the burning in his guts spreading warmth through his body. “Dante...you may hold me…”

 

Dante swallowed, hungry, thick blood dripping from his lip from where he was biting down so hard. Damn. He didn’t think he was so easy to vex--he was too old of a human man to be excited like some teenager.

 

“Dante, it is alright..” V’s voice bewitched him further. 

 

V could see the armored scales, the monstrously demonic gleam in Dante’s eyes was...captivating. He ran his thumbs over the weathered face, skin worn by grins and smiles from facing off against countless foes. Vergil had taken Dante for granted.

 

The way the man fought so hard to contain the devil inside of him was proof of his devotion. It was an entirely unexplored side to the man, one that V found endearing.

 

“You may hold me.” V said, voice firm despite the trembling of his lanky body. “Hold me, Dante.”

 

The gentle caresses snapped his self-control, and red flames roared to life, covering Dante from head to toe with hellish energy, shattering his human facade and casting the devil forth. V held onto that face, even as reality around Dante’s shifted, and he felt the tough scales, and saw the sharp teeth.

 

Taking in the sharp breath, V felt the same terror course through him. But the glowing, fiery eyes still held the same hungry look as before. This was not some underworld demon who had only known the taste of human flesh and blood, hungering for the meat of sparda’s spawn.

 

No, this was not a mindless devil.

 

This was Dante.

 

It was alright.

 

“Dante…” V soothed, hearing the large claws dig into the wood, splintering it further.

 

“Haaa…” Dante growled, pushing his face greedily into V’s shoulder.

 

V gasped, grimacing at the fangs sinking into his flesh. He cried out, his bravado shattering as he felt his worst fear come to life. “AAH!”

 

Dante snarled, withdrawing and forcing his tongue into V’s mouth.

 

V swallowed instinctively, feeling the magma-like blood flow down his throat in a lump. It tasted like thick spice, hot and heavy, electric like Dante himself. Devil’s blood. Dante had bitten his own lips earlier and was now feeding V his blood.

 

“Haa…” V sighed, feeling the bite into his neck tingle in a way that was surprisingly pleasant.

 

Like pins and needles that carried ecstasy, the tingles raged through his body, spreading from the bite all the way through his flesh and deep into V’s bones. He shuddered, feeling his own loins crave suddenly, igniting with fire.

 

“Dante…” V gasped, breathing suddenly labored with newfound arousal.

 

Dante sank his teeth into V’s neck, a shallow mark this time, one that he dribbled his own blood into, causing the wound to smoke as it closed, leaving only a deep colored bruise in its wake. V mewled, the pain no longer present, now suffering from the delectable sparks that came with Dante’s marking.

 

“Dante…! Dante…” V’s usual calm demeanor was quickly crumbling, he began to twitch and gasp.

 

The sight was erotic, and only spurred Dante to sink his jaws into V. The third bite landed on V’s adam’s apple, making him cry out in a shrill voice, spreading his legs like the wretched whores he often found in biblical writings. Dante suckled on the little bump, like it was a sweet fruit, prying cries from V’s lips.

 

“ _ DANTE _ !” He felt the heat between his legs grow unbearable, the pleasure building, culminating from every bite Dante left on his skin.

 

V raised his arm in a feeble attempt to hide his reddened, aroused expression. Dante in turn, sank his fangs into that neck, striking bone and forcing his blood, like a crimson aphrodisiac, right into V’s very core.

 

“AH-!” V felt himself fall from his peak once more, his seed bespattering all over himself.

 

Dante growled, withdrawing, claws still dug into the table firmly, lest he sink them into V as well. He admired his work, heaving and huffing in growls and grunts that sounded like the hellish beast he had turned into. V quivered pathetically underneath him, legs spread wide and exposing the pinkened entrance into his dainty form.

 

Dante leaned down, nosing between the man’s asscheeks.

 

“Oh…!” V, exhausted from his second climax, did nothing to fight the intrusion as Dante’s tongue filled him in place of his cock.

 

Dante’s erection twitched, drooling as much as his mouth was as he wriggled into V’s insides, tasting the mixture of the man’s essence and his own. V squirmed, the bitemarks still throbbing, combining pain and pleasure in a perverse manner that kept him hard despite his orgasm having passed.

 

“Oh...Dan...te...I...beg y-you…” He panted, eyes fluttering between pleasure and exhaustion.

 

He felt his lower stomach move, a tingling sensation telling him that it was Dante’s tongue. V’s toes curled when the tongue inside him pricked upward, intentionally showing him just how deep inside it was, just above the flesh of his own erection.

 

“Ah!” The sight caused V’s cock to twitch in a perverted way that he found himself ashamed of.

 

Dante’s tongue finally ended it’s torment of V’s deepest parts, withdrawing in a deliberately slow manner. V moaned, a low, drawn-up whisper of a moan, shutting his eyes and craning his head back, lost in the feeling.

 

This did not feel like the typical coupling of a devil and it’s prey.

 

T’was more of the gentle ministrations of a devil and it’s spouse, consummating a union.

 

“Dante…” V found his body almost moving on it’s own, perplexed at the way he reached down to expose his own entrance to Dante invitingly.

 

Dante snarled angrilly, the taunt obviously earning V his ire.

 

V felt gigantic arms, hot with hellfire, lifting him off the wood of the desk. Then a pressure against his buttocks, made slippery with sinful substances, sent a powerful jolt of pure euphoria through him. He surrendered himself to Dante’s demonic wiles, allowing the bitemarks burned into his skin, and the sinful slick Dante’s tongue had left inside of him to do their work, causing nothing but pleasure. 

 

“Haa-...aah…!” V cried out, his legs unable to spread any wider, and yet yearning for more.

 

The cock, cut with ridges and bumps like the rest of Dante’s gloriously infernal body forced itself inside of him, the only thing keeping V from being completely torn apart was the wicked energy that kept him subdued, fiendishly tricking his body into accepting the intrusion.

 

“Daa...nn...te…” V’s strained voice sang, no longer able to distinguish between his own will, and Dante’s erotic control over his body. “Ahh...t-take me, I beg you…”

 

Inch by inch, Dante worked his thick girth into him, making his body fill out to the point of overflowing. V gasped and yelped--perverted sounds that he refused to hear of himself, lest he perish from shame. By the time Dante was relatively seated inside of him, V broke.

 

He climaxed again--the third time causing his body to convulse. 

 

“ _ RRRRGHH _ !” Dante roared, seeing V pushed over the edge by the mere feeling of having his cock penetrate him made Dante see red. 

 

He snapped his hips, powerful thighs drawing the length of his cock out, before he surged forward. V was yanked back from teetering on the edge of sleep, eyes wide and mouth gasping, abdomen distending in a twisted mockery of pregnancy from Dante’s size.

 

“AAH!” V felt his seed continue to flow from him, his erection aching for more. “DANTE!”

 

Despite the rough treatment, V knew Dante was being as careful as he could. They had not yet come to find purchase on the floor, in a mess of blood and debris. Dante was being gentle with him, even as a devil.

 

“GH-...UGH...OH--!” The thrusts that followed forced the air out of V’s lungs, cries coming out in erotic moans.

 

The room filled with deep snarls and roars, shaking the walls with every smack of Hadean hips against the tiny ass. V continued to ejaculate, beyond what was possible for a human body. His frail hands went to his stomach, the thin skin there lurching and moving with every thrust Dante delivered.

 

He could feel the cradle of infernal power, keeping him whole, keeping him intact, safe, caressing him from the thickness Dante drove into him, and around him from Dante’s dripping breath in his face. It emanated from the powerful, beastly body that whipped and jerked above him everytime it drove inside to stab his sensitive depths. From the arms that held him in place, the power flowed into him, ensuring the pain was but a distant thought.

 

“Dante…!” V’s extended climax peaked, a height he had not thought possible, convulsing once more, his eyes whitened along with his hair.

 

Dante roared. The sound shattered the windows and shook the whole row of buildings down the street from one end to the other. The frightened screams of people outside were barely audible, Dante instead focusing on how his essence permeated V’s body, rounding the once deflated stomach.

 

He ground his monstrous hips into V, tearing a tired whimper from the man who was mentally drifting away. Dante slowly removed himself from the worn-out body. Thick, glowing heat spilling out from between V’s legs and onto the floor.

 

The hellfire dissipated, and Dante’s being shattered, becoming an exhausted man, hunched over V, who was now laying on the office table, unconscious.

 

“Haa…” He panted, disturbed at just how much he’d managed to utterly ruin V despite being in control, unlike the usual. “Shit...V….hah...are you…”

 

V didn’t move, his white hair accentuating his pale body, covered in fluids just as white as his strands and tender eyelashes. He breathed, shallow breaths, legs twitching involuntarily, fresh seed cascading down his milky thighs and calves to fall to the Herculean puddle of white on the floor.

 

“Haa...god…” Dante sighed in relief when he saw V breathing, closing his eyes and bending down to rest his head against V’s small chest.

 

A delicate touch on his cheek surprised him and Dante’s head snapped up to find those snow-white flashes fluttering open. V looked at him, and that was when Dante realized just how deep, how green his eyes were.

 

...green?

 

Vergil had blue eyes, the same as his.

 

What exactly...who exactly was  _ V _ ? Even knowing who and what he was, Dante still found himself asking that question, whilst the pale man smiled at him with those gorgeous lips.

 

Dante couldn’t stop himself; he kissed him, growling low.

 

V hummed, kissing back, a satisfied look on his face when Dante pulled away to stare at him. “Have you been sated?” V raised his other hand, cradling Dante’s face.

 

Dante smirked; it sounded like V had just fed a wild beast. Well, that wasn’t entire wrong…

 

“For now.” Dante replied, leaning into V’s hands, which were still caressing his face.

 

Such gentle touches were too great a gift for someone like Dante after what he’d just done to V. He wouldn’t refuse though, gratefully accepting the strokes of gentle thumb against his face and each brush against his hair. The exchange was a stark difference to the demonic scene of a devil forcing itself into the smaller man just moments ago.

 

“V...are you alright?” Dante questioned in concern.

 

V’s smile only widened in a smug expression and Dante instantly fell in love with all over again. “I have a rather selfish request…”

 

“Name it.” Dante said without hesitation.

 

“I wish to retire to your bed…” V’s hands began to slow, touch weakening, before they slowly slipped off Dante’s face. “I leave...the rest to…”

 

Dante caught V’s hands. “Sure thing, babe.”

 

Oof, Dante had a hell of a cleanup job to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Smut Scene inspired by https://twitter.com/donlemefo/status/1115651919173902338 (address for the pic, if you want to check out their work! Amazing artist! Please follow them on Twitter!)
> 
> Aaah, I didn’t think I was going to be posting this so soon!! Then again, I’m working on several fics at the same time (and my folks are back from their vacation so here I am, being a housemaid again, so busy busy busy!) I hope you enjoyed! It was tricky trying to keep the scene sweet. 
> 
> I don’t know if Dante acted OOC here and it really concerns me. But I figure seeing how BREAKABLE V is, I think even Dante would have some kind of consideration, seeing as how gently he handled Lady and Trish once he rescued them.
> 
> Oh well, it’s up now! Please feel free to leave feedback! 
> 
> I write for fun, and am working on some OC NSFW comics (I’d like to think I’m better at drawing than I am at writing since I had formal education for it, but I could be wrong who knows…) so if you’re interested, please follow me on Twitter @HPrincess06 to see more! Feel free to ask me about the OC NSFW Yaoi stuff too! Ask me anything, really.
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06


	3. Vehement, Vain, Vile (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> IT’S FUCKING SPARDACEST WEEK BITCHESSSS~!!
> 
> Oho, it’s still V’s birthday where I am right now, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY V! WE ALL LOVE YOU AND WE MISS YOU! (Which, was the whole reason I started writing this fic in the first place!)
> 
> A part of this fic was inspired by hilarious art from @ZsySain (which you can find here https://twitter.com/ZsySain/status/1115719020202713088)
> 
> In the spirit of #SpardacestWeek, I gotta say that the prompts from the Bingo by @SpardaWeek on Twitter are: Demon Mating, The Van, and Quality Time! Sorry, no smut this chapter, but don’t worry! This fic will be a nice slow burn that’ll get back into that delicious smutty spardacest fuckpile goodness soon!
> 
> Please enjoy! You can follow me in twitter @hprincess06 if you haven’t already! I’ll be spamming a lot of the Sons of Sparda this entire week (and beyond LOL)!
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06

**\--- (???? ??, ??.?? ??)**

 

Vergil opened his eyes, staring at the abyss beneath him.

 

The darkness writhed with tendrils, crimson, and teeth in an amalgamation of all the horror he had known his life. He stared apathetically, feeling no fear. Feeling nothing as the abyss stared back at him.

 

He could not recall why he knew that there had to be an emotion associated with the sight of the vile thing inside of him. There was no memory of how or why he had feared anything at all.

 

“ _MOTHER!_ ”

 

A scream, shrill and familiar, and yet completely lost to him drew his attention to where it came from behind him. He turned, only to find himself standing on grass, staring into a window.

 

He did not have any memory of the scene before him. A child who was clearly Dante, holding a wreath of lilies of the valley, a flower whose name he knew of, but whose significance was lost to him.

 

Such memories meant nothing to him. He could not recall them being his own.

 

He turned, walking towards the playground, a rocking horse holding his gaze, longer than any of the other childish things in the small plot of land before the house. He reached out and touched it, finding himself lost as to why it was there; why he had touched it.

 

Then a cry, deep and terrible, followed by another, and another, and then a chorus of the damned. Yes, these sounds were familiar to him--he had heard them many times in the Underworld. Such pathetic sounds only the weaker demons uttered to make themselves seem mightier than they were.

 

Vergil felt no fear.

 

He felt nothing, even as the creatures emerged from the suddenly blood-colored sky, drowning in clouds of sinful energy and gore. He watched indifferently as all manner of devils, demons, and foul creatures began to ravage the scene around him. A snort found itself through his nostrils as he smirked, musing at how the vile things avoided him; for he was too strong, for they knew he was too powerful to be touched, to be hurt.

 

Then a foolish one, sweeping down from above, aimed his claws right for him. Vergil scoffed, raising his hand to bat the claws away.

 

_“Vergil, where are you!?”_

 

He remembered--the feeling of shock, confusion, his own glowing, devilish, clawed, armored hand crushing the claws that had come for him. Yes, these moments he remembered. He threw the demon back with effort he thought was pathetic, upon reflection a moment after it fell. Turning, he saw the same woman who had been with Dante, rushing out the door towards him.

 

He did not understand.

 

Looking at his own small hands, he confirmed that yes, he was in fact a devil. There was nothing strange about that fact...but what was peculiar was how the woman reached for him, grabbing at him. The house was ablaze now, as if by nightmarish magic.

 

Was she not a human?

 

Why was she trying to hold him?

 

_“MOTHER!”_

 

Distracted by the scream, Vergil hadn’t noticed the second set of talons that came for him, taking him from the ground, away from the woman.

 

She screamed, her blood spilling onto the grass where he stood, as she was slain.

 

_“MOTHER! MOTHER NO! MOTHER!”_

 

Vergil winced, irritated at the screaming voice that he did not recognize. Reflecting, he decided that Dante must have perished in the flames, though he felt nothing about that fact. The memory was familiar and yet foreign. He glanced down at his claws, only to find hands.

 

“ _MOTHER!_ ”

 

A child sat before him, only revealed when Vergil lowered his hand. White hair sat atop the crying face.

 

A face he did not recognize.

 

The child wailed, grasping at the darkness and finding nothing to hold onto. Vergil glared, disgusted as the voice continued to fruitlessly cry out for their mother, for the human woman.

 

The human woman who was _dead_.

 

_“I beg you…!”_

 

Vergil was struck by realization of those words and he found himself speaking, as if chanting, giving the child new life, new form--if only just barely.

 

“Cruelty has a Human Heart, And Jealousy a Human Face…”

 

_“Dante…! I beg you…!”_

 

Yes, he had always been envious of Dante, Vergil recalled. “Terror the Human Form Divine, And Secrecy, the Human Dress.”

 

The man with white hair screamed in pure terror and despair, now incoherent as he pleaded, grasping at the dark.

 

“The Human Dress, is forged Iron, The Human Form, a fiery Forge…”

 

The book, the book the human woman--his mother had given him was in Vergil’s hand.

 

“The Human Face, a Furnace seal’d…”

 

Vergil glanced away from the man on his knees, pleading and weeping, staring at the book with the letter ‘V’, for his very own name on the cover. It was ornate and intricate, made with care and craftsmanship, and had been a present out of love. How vehement.

 

“The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.”

 

Vergil glanced back up at the man who was crumbling, flaking, his face turning to utter anguish. He was even more repulsed, watching this pathetic, unfamiliar man yowl and wail at him, begging for mercy. He could not bear to touch him. How vain.

 

 _“I will shatter!”_ The man with no name cried.

 

Instead, Vergil offered the book. It was a relic he no longer needed, of a memory he could not recall. As the thin, malnourished man’s hand touched the book, Vergil felt his body lurch.

 

Power passed from him, from the darkness around them, through him and into the boney, pathetic man. The darkness marked him, appearing on his skin, darkening the snow-white hair into a blackness that was blacker than a moonless night.

 

Vergil watched as the man closed his eyes, curling up like an unborn child, suspended in darkness, clutching the book like a precious treasure in his frail form.

 

With the company of nightmares, the man’s screams had finally stopped.

 

Satisfied, Vergil turned, only to realize that he was unsure of where he was, and what his destination was to be. He paused, only to feel a chill of terror run through his body.

 

“ _MOTHER!_ ”

 

He screamed, realizing now that all this time, it had been he who was the man that had been screaming. How _vile_.

  


.

 

.

 

.

**\--(June 20, 7.05 AM)**

  


V gasped, feeling, before opening his eyes. He’d been launched into darkness after the terrifying visions, the sound of Vergil’s voice still ringing in his ears. He wiggled involuntarily, instinctively trying to find comfort.

 

A softness that was recognizable, all-encompassing and vaguely familiar and yet entirely unfamiliar, engulfed him. It was accompanied by a slow rise and fall, followed by a tickling sensation against his neck. Breathing. Someone was breathing.

 

He recognized that scent, Dante...

 

Dull brightness greeted V when he finally opened his eyes. A strong, thick arm, casually placed under his temple, cradled him alongside another that held fast at his hip.

 

“Mornin’ mystery man,” Dante greeted, a smug expression on his face.

 

V took in a slow, groggy breath, instinctively curling into the warmth Dante’s bare body provided, his own just as naked. He exhaled hard through his nose, resisting the urge to smile, lest Dante tease him. He felt...safe.

 

“I do not believe I am such a mystery at this point,” V replied, taking in the serenity of such a simple morning, of a kind he’d never experienced before.

 

The sultry tone was even more ragged and slower than usual, Dante noted. That was a crime V would pay for, he decided. But firstly, he was worried about something else.

 

V moaned as a calloused, solid hand slid its way up his chest. Lips pressed into his own, careful, concerned, behind the mischief.

 

Could it be that Dante was fearful of wounding him?

 

“ _Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,_  
_Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;_  
_They were but sweet, but figures of delight_  
_Drawn after you, – you pattern of all those._  
_Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,_ _  
_    As with your shadow I with these did play.” V recited as Dante withdrew.

 

“You’re the white lily here, buddy.” Dante chuckled, opting to stay in bed a little longer. “Was that...actually Shakespeare?”

 

V gave him an amused expression, before swiftly pushing Dante away and swiping his cane from the side of the bed. As pleasant as the morning greeting might have been, V would still have preferred cuddles received from Shadow.

 

But, as expected, the ever vehement Dante was not keen to let him go just yet.

 

Dante scowled a pout, moving to pin V down in a bear hug, then screeching to a stop mid-pounce when the tip of V’s cane tapped the space between his eyes in a coy warning.

 

“Unfortunately, I have matters that require my attention.” V smiled but quickly frowned, brows raising in a troubled expression, when a slickness trailed its way down between his lanky thighs.

 

Dante’s whiny scowl turned into a smirk, vainly admiring his handiwork from last night.

 

“Come on, babe...” Dante cooed, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s the last thing on the honeymoon list.”

 

V considered his options, especially with the vile feeling of demonic seed streaming out from inside of him. He lowered his cane.

 

Dante took his chance that very moment to pounce on V, laughing as the man cried out in terror. Rolling, Dante used his feet to stop against the floor, sitting on it, V safely in his lap and in his arms.

 

“Boy, I should’ve tried this honeymoon style stuff sooner. I knew I was a genius.” Dante complimented himself.

 

V sighed. Dante was fortunately dexterous enough for them not to both have been accidentally pierced by his cane.

 

“You still have nightmares.” Dante’s tone suddenly dropped.

 

V looked up at the man, only receiving a stern expression from piercing blue eyes. “They do not feel like my nightmares.”

 

“You said ‘mother’. Well, screamed it actually,” Dante teased, though his tone was lighter.

 

V felt embarrassment course through him and curled in on himself to hide his expression in shame. He did not understand why it was that he could be there--why it was he that was in Dante’s arms and not Vergil. It was meant to be Vergil--for he was Vergil, but Vergil was not he.

 

“What is...the meaning of this?” V gasped, finally seeing his own hands, then the rest of himself.

 

He was as pale and clean as freshly fallen snow. The bangs over his eyes were white, and not black. Only he had not realized it until this moment. All of him was as porcelain as porcelain could be.

 

“How can this be?” V gasped in horror.

 

It made sense now, why he did not hear the whispered fears that Vergil always kept to himself and told no one else. Why it was that he felt that the marks on his skin had been a lie, merely a part of a vision of himself as he was one year ago. Because, they had been.

 

...his familiars had never been with him at all.

 

“It happened when you started screaming,” Dante clarified, getting to his feet, V in his arms. “I like the new look, didn’t know your hair did that.”

 

...those leftover feelings, they were missing.

 

“It is not--” V stopped himself, his heart racing.

 

...as a fragment of Vergil, all that tied him to the existence of a complete man was the discarded emotions that Vergil could not accept. And now...they were gone.

 

Inwardly scoping himself, V found nothing, emptiness, a hollow feeling of helplessness.

 

V felt alone.

 

V _was_ alone.

 

Alone.

 

Abandoned.

 

 **_Rejected_ **.

 

_“Hey, hey, V…!”_

 

Dante’s voice quickly drew him back, holding his attention fast. V swallowed a lump in his throat he did not feel until that moment, staring at Dante, his eyes unfocused, obscured by tears. His chest heaved, breaths coming in panicked shudders.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dante persisted vehemently, having shifted V to cradle him properly when the man had started to become agitated.

 

“I beg you, do not leave me..” V shuddered, grasping at Dante’s shoulders. “Do not leave me as well…”

 

Dante’s gaze hardened--he’d suspected there was something wrong with V’s appearance before. It didn’t line up with the kind of energy he was getting from the guy. One year ago, V had this...wickedness about him. Despite the demeanor and the sultry tone, coupled with impeccable manners, Dante could tell the man was no ordinary guy.

 

This was proven later down the line, the first time Dante witnessed V summon his familiars. The little tricks he had up his sleeve in fact, were more than just a tiny bit suspicious. Dante had seen them all before.

 

Actually, Dante had named a few himself.

 

Shadow...how many vaguely feline creatures, made of black smoke and darkness had he slain? He knew by heart, how the gentle pitter-patter of their paws would be the only warning he would get that one or more were in the room, before they attacked. Dante knew that to slay these bad cats, it was the easiest to use his lovely ladies--Ebony and Ivory--to get rid of the weird smoke they had shrouding them and exposing their cores. They were trouble in swarms though.

 

“I’m here. Hey, I’m here…” Dante reassured, taking V into the bathroom after kicking the door open as gently as he could. “V, I’m here.”

 

Though, V’s version of shadow had been cuddly, funnily enough. More like a giant cuddle-monster that knew how to bite as well as snuggle.

 

V’s ribcage heaved, accenting his bones in a way that had Dante feeling sorry for him. He went to the shower, maneuvering V so that the thin body was cradled in a single arm. With his free hand, Dante turned the shower on, making sure to shield V’s body from the sudden rush of cold which gradually became warmer and warmer.

 

Griffon however--now that thing had quite the mouth on him, much like the one he’d encountered when Vergil had been...turned into that _thing_. He’d never brought it up the entire time they’d been stuck in the Underworld together. It was Vergil who’d challenged Mundus first, but it was Dante who finished him off. Dante figured that if Vergil remembered anything, he was still sore about that.

 

Once Dante thought the water was a good temperature--though for him, it was a little too warm--he turned and held V under the spray in both arms.

 

He wasn’t too fond of Griffon, Dante realized. Maybe it was because he talked too much himself. Damn, was he a vain kind of guy.

 

V wasn’t speaking anymore, his shuddering coming to a stop when the warmth of the water washed over him. Dante drenched them both, lowering him down to sit on the shower floor, the angle making the spray fall like rain.

 

Nightmare...now that one, he remembered really well. It was like a oozing pile of weird-ass shit and more shit. It didn’t really have a mind of it’s own, Dante figured. Fighting it twice had him conclude that it was named properly. Were Vergil’s nightmares really that bad? Shit. He really needed to try and chill out, maybe have a strawberry sundae or two.

 

“A qualia of madness…” V whispered, tasting something vile in his own words.

 

V’s voice startled Dante out of his thoughts. The heavy-metal music in his head he always heard when he was in the heat of battle came to a screeching stop. Usually, this would cause him to be in a bad mood. But in this case, it was even better music to his ears.

 

Huh. He didn’t like it when V wasn’t saying something poetic or fancy-pantsy-sounding. Who knew.

 

Dante blinked, raising a brow. “A... _what_?”

 

V looked at his hands, paler now that the markings of demonic promises were absent. “Have I been forced out once more? Or are these delusions of what I had always dreamed? Is it true that we...you, and myself, as V…that you could desire even my human half, it does not feel real. Too lofty a dream…”

 

The way V mixed his own sense of self with Vergil’s, whereas before, he seemed to speak of someone else entirely was telling. V was fighting something inside of him. This time, it wasn’t the fact that Vergil had separated himself that caused V’s troubled thoughts.

 

This time, it was something else, Dante concluded.

 

“You got me. But thanks for the compliment.” Dante grinned, pleased to hear that V had wanted him just as much as he did back. He shifted, taking one of V’s hands into his own and rubbing it with his thumb. “You feel different.”

 

“How so?” V asked, concerned.

 

“Not falling apart, for one. I wouldn't worry about it.” Dante reassured in his casual, but not quite careless way.

 

“If I truly have taken Vergil’s place...then…” V could not comprehend.

 

“Let’s just wait for him to come out of his little hidey-hole.” Dante sighed, interrupting him with an grin.

 

It was V’s turn to slowly blink, taking in Dante’s words and allowing them to ring in his head, all the way through his bones and down to his chest, where he felt a very real heart pumping. The grin on his face told V that Dante knew more than he was telling--a look that he found much too suspicious for his own liking.

  


.

 

.

 

.

**\-- (June 21, 12.30 PM)**

 

Nero trudged into the office, sighing heavily, covered in slime and blood, making a mess on Dante’s floor, and frowning like he’d just been told he’d done horribly on a math test. It took three days to track down the source of the demonic energy, only to have it vanish.

 

But he’d gotten a look.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, and he hoped he was mistaken. Which, was why he was back to make sure.

 

“Dante!” He called out to the air, when the man was absent from his usual spot on the chair, and wasn’t lazing on the couch.

 

Silence.

 

“Hey, Dante!” Nero tried again, frowning.

 

Had he gone out somewhere? Another job maybe? He sure hoped that wasn’t the case. Nero was about to leave and find Morrison, when he heard noise from the bedroom. Had Dante not even bothered to get up that morning? Sure, getting back from a literal hell would’ve been a lot of work...but Dante’d been through worse. What a lazy bas-

 

“Dante?”

 

V’s voice surprised Nero first.

 

V’s attire surprised Nero next.

 

In nothing but an oversized sweater that obviously, obviously belonged to someone bulkier than he was, V stopped short of leaving the door, quickly retreating back inside. Nero didn’t get a good enough look at him, seeing only his head and part of an overtly exposed shoulder, before V vanished back inside.

 

He heard Nico’s excited shouts from outside, knowing exactly who she was freaking out over.

 

The door behind him opened.

 

Nero smashed Dante’s face in with an otherworldly, clawed, bright, blue fist.

 

“Are you serious?!” Nero growled, his blue claws still at Dante’s shirt and his fist locked back ready to throw another punch.

 

But all he saw was a pair of double doors swinging. He’d sent Dante hurling right through them, back out into the street. Nico’s sputtering of surprise confirmed this.

 

Gut filled with rage, Nero marched through the doors, down the steps, winged-hand grabbing Dante by the shirt and flinging him back inside. Marching back in himself, he merely grunted at Nico’s yelling.

 

“Try not to mess’m up too hard! I want a selfie!”

 

Nero felt V’s eyes on him as he stomped over to glower down on Dante, who was dramatically taking his sweet time to sit up.

 

“Oof, kid.” Dante snorted.

 

Nero snarled. “You greedy, handsy old--”

 

“You act like you don’t get all excited too.” Dante interrupted. “Come on, kid. It’s not like you haven’t needed help between the thighs.”

 

Nero’s eyes went wide. “You think this is funny?!”

 

One year ago, when he’d first gotten back onto his feet, practically leaping out of the hospital bed, it was because of V. It had been V, who had sought him out. For whatever reason, be it selfish or conniving, even if it had been a lie, it was V who had gotten him back into the fight.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down…” Dante’s smirk was back. He lay there, half propped up on an elbow, legs parted the way he fell, just enough to be inviting.

 

Nero could feel the low, thrumming lust in Dante’s voice. The same one he recognized from all those times he’d pinned down and been pinned down by the man.

 

“You’re telling me to calm down?!” Nero yelled louder. “Can’t you cool your raging demon-boner for once?!”

 

Nero’s mind drifted back. He remembered that date clearly, having checked the time and day when he’d woken up only to be alarmed at how much time had passed. The mysterious man who had come to pay him a visit hadn’t meant anything to him then.

 

Dante raised a brow, “What? Jealous?”

 

“NO!” Nero’s yell sounded more like a roar.

 

Nero remembered how he’d thought V looked more sickly than he did, and they should have switched places at that moment. Oh, how he’d trade having V in a hospital bed, recovering from the decay that tormented his body instead of what happened to him. As much as Nero was grateful when he learned Vergil was his father--that he even _had_ family, the one year he’d spent fighting demons without Dante around to coach him had him thinking about a lot of things.

 

“Of V? Or...of me?” Dante pressed.

 

He’d missed V, Nero realized in that very moment.

 

Dante had always told him to watch his back, or even tossed him a few jobs when things at the house were getting tight. As family, it made sense that Dante wanted to care for him, but he’d never let Nero in on a fight. Dante had never fought with him side by side. Always running ahead, showing off, being an arrogant dick. Not that Nero would have Dante change--being his uncle was just a new title and hadn’t changed anything in their relationship.

 

But…V had been different.

 

V had stood _by_ him.

 

V had stood _behind_ him.

 

V had stood in _front_ of him.

 

V had faced dangers with him _together_.

 

Nero knew V probably didn’t think he’d noticed, but the man had gone from using his cane and talking at him from a distance, to touching his shoulder and openly speaking to him closely.

 

It had felt good, fighting with V beside him. It was a feeling he never experienced ever since…

 

V finally emerged, venturing cautiously down the stairs, having found a clean sweater and a pair of pants that thankfully stayed on him without slipping down too low and deciding to borrow some flat-heeled sandals he found. Seeing no other options, he re-emerged to find Nero at Dante’s throat.

 

“Sure, yeah! Fine! I’m jealous! I get that you’re a bastard who needs a leash around that dumb demon dick of yours!” Nero yelled back, “That makes it alright for you to just play around with anyone who catches your eye?!”

 

V smiled, just as amused with the exchange as Dante was. It seemed Nero had forgotten his presence.

 

“Whoo...so, you plan to do something about it?” Dante asked, Nero’s thoughts clear to him.

 

Nero grabbed him again, this time by the neck, lifting Dante off the floor, blue claws digging hard into the older man’s flesh.

 

Dante knew what it felt like. Perhaps Nero hadn’t gotten so much of that vile, vehement desire to devour, since he was still one-fourth devil when it came down to it, as powerful as the kid was when he pulled his Devil Trigger.

 

“You can’t just go around and--” Nero’s tone began to get louder, but he was interrupted by a much quieter, much calmer, soothing voice.

 

“I am but a fragment of Vergil’s nightmares,” V explained, completely uninterested in Nero’s outburst. “There is nothing to be concerned about.”

 

Nero whipped his head back, staring at V, who was now standing there, wearing Dante’s clothes, no doubt. His hair was white, and his skin was clean--the tattoos were missing. Was this...V?

 

“Nero, kindly unhand Dante, if you please.” Those plump, gorgeous lips parted to allow the sultry voice to slip through.

 

He felt a shiver run down his spine, recalling the showy manner in which V fought alongside him. The tattoos burning and flaking, like flower petals of a black rose, summoning his beasts; things Nero now came to understand were born of his own father’s nightmares.

 

“Yeah, well, whatever you are…” Nero frowned, letting go of Dante. “You’re comin’ with me.”

 

He turned back to glare at Dante, who had an amused expression on his face. Nero wanted to sock him just one more time.

 

“What? I ain’t stopping you. Asked you to take him along, didn’t I?” Dante shrugged, making his way to his desk with a wave of his hand.

 

..the old man was up to something, Nero could tell.

 

“I’m not bringing him back here.” Nero declared, walking out. “Come on, V…”

 

Nero had to swallow, pressing his lips together hard when he realized how good it felt to say those words. They exited the office, leaving Dante sitting at his desk. Nero knew that he still had that same, stupidly smug look watching them go. It was hard not to feel it when Dante’s eyes were on him. Only this time, Nero had to keep his fist at his side to keep from running back in there and punching Dante a new hole through his chest. He could feel his gaze, and it wasn’t on him this time, it was on V. A very _specific_ part of V. Nero quickly threw the door closed behind them, cutting off Dante’s gaze.

 

**_Slam!_ **

 

Dante kicked his desk, sending the phone into his hand. Time to order a celebratory pizza.

 

V followed Nero to the familiar van, smiling a little in amusement at such a feeling. He had not thought that feeling familiarity with anything at all could be pleasant. Up until this little mishap, all familiarity often came with horrible memories and terrible nightmares.

 

“Hey, are you...alright?” Nero asked warily. “Did he...you know..uh…”

 

Damn. Nero didn’t know what words to use.

 

V did not look the same as he had when Dante’d first brought him back. On top of wondering why he was there, now Nero was worried about why it was he looked…

 

 _“Why are thou silent and invisible, father of jealousy?”_ V recited, but also asked, a question pointed directly at Nero.

 

Nero paused, stopping on their way to the van, taking in V’s words. One year ago, he would’ve scoffed and brushed them aside. But being there, hearing V’s voice again...it felt surreal.

 

V’s lips moved like rose petals, smooth and thick. _“Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds, from every searching eye?”_

 

Nero felt his chest tighten at the confusing, powerful feelings surging within him at the sight and the sound of V’s person. He was the same as always, just as cryptic and as poetic in the most aggravating way.

 

 _“Why darkness and obscurity, in all thy words and laws?”_ V reiterated.

 

“Is that...about my father?” Nero questioned.

 

“Hey, hey, hey! Come on, we got a birdbrain to take care of!” Nico hurried them, honking the horn a few times.

 

Nero flinched, sighing and directing V towards the van. “Is it?”

 

“I suppose it is...as I feel it is about myself,” V explained. “I seem to have...made yet another mistake.”

 

“What, back there? Don’t worry about it--Dante’s just too handsy for his own--”

 

V took a seat in the corner, where the cushioned length of couch was.

 

“No, not that.” V sliced through Nero’s words with his own. “The fact that I am here, standing before you...it troubles me.”

 

“Yeah well…” Nero was once again, floundering for words.

 

Without warning, Nico threw the van into gear and started off. Nero took a step to the side, when the entire vehicle around them lurched, but he was used to it. V however, was not. He’d never been in the van whilst it was in motion.

 

“Uff-...!” He uttered an uncharacteristically unbecoming sound, sliding a short way down the couch.

 

Nero couldn’t suppress a laugh at the sight.

 

V huffed and straightened up, fixing his hair and brushing it to one side, though the other eye was still covered by his mess of wavy strands. White, like snow, Nero noted. He stared a bit, wondering if V’s hair had truly been white underneath the black he always sported. Nero had never gotten a good enough look during their short time together; preoccupied with getting revenge for what happened to his arm.

 

“Red Grave, here we come!” Nico announced. “You know, you owe me gas for this!”

 

V took a moment to realize the remark had been directed at him. “Pardon me?”

 

“Leave him alone, Nico, I don’t think he’s got a clue this time around.” Nero clarified cryptically, explaining nothing.

 

“Well what’s he doin’ here?” Nico asked. “What happened to yer hair?”

 

“I seem to be...missing my companions,” V said, voice meek, embarrassed. “I too am lost as to the reason.”

 

“Dante killed them after you-...” Nero stopped himself, going to take his seat. “Well, you’re back. Now we’ve got new problems.”

 

**_“Your concerns are misplaced, my son.”_ **

 

Nero’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around to the back. He stared right at V, who for once, was looking back at him, looking just as shocked.

 

“...did you...say something?” Nero hesitated.

 

“I did not,” V replied, slightly perplexed.

 

Nero slowly returned to his usual position, glaring back at V suspiciously. It felt like the other man was still playing games with them. But...just then, that hadn’t been V’s voice.

 

It sounded way more annoying.

 

“What be the trouble that awaits us at Red Grave?” V inquired, looking to his book for the answer.

 

He always did this, his hands tuned to the pages, fingers dancing between the gaps, like he was caressing an old dance partner. He need not worry of where the pages would land, for the book always opened up to the answers he sought.

 

“Was gonna ask Dante about that...but, since you’re here…” Nero trailed off, watching V’s reflection in the windshield.

 

He looked like a ghost--no, ghastlier than even the ghosts Nero had often conjured up in his peripheral when his mind wandered.

 

“Maybe you can help us.” Nero finished; sounding more sure than V looked.

 

V looked up from his book, and the look he caught Nero sending him his way through the reflective glass spoke volumes. There was a twisted melancholy in those piercing blue eyes. The same eyes Dante possessed, the same eyes he felt glowering at him with disdain when Vergil had cut him out. These eyes however, had been lit brightly by something other than the deep, greedy lust Dante had for him.

 

Nero’s eyes were gentle and sweet, innocent almost. Perhaps it was why Dante was drawn to the boy. Even after engaging in the slaying of demons and fornication with demons, somehow, Nero had remained the way he was. A bright, young, well-intentioned and pure-eyed boy.

 

Now that, was tantalizing, V thought.

 

Dante had excellent taste when it came to bed.

 

“Perhaps, however, did you not just say I would be lost as to your current…’problem’?” V pointed out.

 

Nero contemplated on what to say. He had a feeling deep in his gut, now that the rage had subsided completely and he was able to properly think. Dante might’ve been the stronger physical fit for this kind of job, but he did say he’d bring V along...and also…

 

“I think you’ll know once we get there.”

 

“It will be a while before we arrive at Red Grave.” V was thinking more out loud than he was talking to Nero.

 

“We could always stop by a pizza place on the way.” Nico suggested, grinning wide.

 

Nero growled. Nico probably vaguely knew what had gone on back there, and with V dressed in some forgotten clothes Dante had in his room, it was more than a little obvious.

 

“I will have to decline.” V politely spoke up. “Dante has already attempted to have me consume...pizza.”

 

The word felt weird--it was italian, but having it be turned into such a sloppy junk food by modern society left an odd taste in V’s mouth. And he had not even had a slice.

 

“Wait, Dante took you out?” Nero asked, surprised.

 

V nodded, keeping his eyes on his little book. “Yes. It was quite interesting.”

 

“As in, to dinner?” Nero prodded further.

 

“Strawberry su--”

 

Nero interrupted V. “Are you serious? Nico, is he serious?”

 

“It’s about damn time!” Nico replied.

 

“That nasty old man’s never even bought me gum, much less take me out on a damn date.” Nero sneered.

 

“Wait,” Nico spoke up, “Are you...like...you know…”

 

“It was not a date.” V lied, voice firm to attempt to be as convincing as possible.

 

“Hold up, don’t change the subject!” Nico raved on. “Are all you part-demons uh...you know…?”

 

Nero’s stomach dropped. It had been a trial enough to explain to Kyrie exactly what having demon’s blood meant, let alone Dante and Vergil’s rather unsavory way of showing affection for each other, and how Dante didn’t know any other way to bond with anyone...of course, he didn’t get into too much detail about how he and Dante behaved when they were uh...alone…

 

...but five years was an impossibly long time to keep a secret.

 

Luckily for everyone involved, the worst part of the entire situation was how embarrassed Nero himself had been about the whole situation. Maybe he should’ve trusted Kyrie more. In fact, she’d grown even more understanding now that it was clear Dante and he were clearly related and weren’t just acting strange around each other because of the demon blood that ran through both their veins.

 

...well, Kyrie and Credo were more into the whole cult-thing than he was, back on Fortuna...so maybe that was why Kyrie hadn’t really worried over anything involving demonic blood and weird urges. Maybe she’d expected it.

 

Nero cringed at the thought.

 

Poor Kyrie.

 

“Is that like...a family thing? I mean...I’d been chalking it up to mosquito bites but uh…” Nico slowly glanced over at Nero.

 

It was obvious she was thinking back to all those times Dante had gotten too riled up and had left marks on Nero. Though, right now, V had even more obvious signs of having been in bed with the devil who slayed other devils.

 

“What?” Nero looked astonished, but he wasn’t good at lying. “What are you on about?”

 

“So…” Nico trailed off.

 

V glanced up from his book. “I believe we were on the way to somewhere?”

 

Nero was glad that V had decided to change the subject. He was much better at steering Nico away from things nobody would rather discuss, he discovered. Lucky.

 

Guess he wasn’t so bad for half-of-a-demon dad.

 

**_BAM!_ **

 

“Ahh shit!” Nico swerved, whipping the van horizontally across the too small road.

 

Nero leapt out of his seat, partially from the momentum, partially because he saw V flying off the couch across from his, about to have his big snooty nose slam into the jukebox.

 

“Agh-!” V cried out, a strong arm caught his chest, knocking the wind out of him, Nero’s arm pressing into bite marks that flared up with pain.

 

Nero grunted, landing on his knees, the devil breaker serving as a shield for the back of V’s head which whipped back towards the glass window behind him when Nero had caught him.

 

Fuck.

 

“Hey, hey! You’re paying for that window!” Nico called back to them. “Oh, shit! Sorry V!” She apologized when she finally whipped her head around to see where Nero had gone, his seat suddenly empty.

 

V looked like he’d shatter if he so much as flicked his nose. Nero very quickly cringed and tried to push the mental image of V’s face imploding on itself from the impact he’d just saved him from.

 

“Nico!” Nero barked.

 

“I know, I know!” Nico yammered back. “It was an accident! We hit something!”

 

Nico very quickly scrambled out of the van to check the damage. “Don’chu touch the wheel, Nero!”

 

“Ah jeez...” Nero was about to say more, when he felt a thin, gentle hand on his chest.

 

“Thank you. Twice now, have you aided me.” V pushed himself onto his feet, using Nero as support.

 

Nero straightened up with the other man, recalling just how frail and fragile he felt when they had encountered each other in the qliphoth. “No problem.”

 

Oddly enough, he was bothered by just how different V was from Vergil. A year ago, when he had beaten down his own father, he’d learned quite a lot about dear old dad.

 

...guess that trading punches, blows, and kicks (and attempting to behead or bisect each other) was just how they conversed in their Sparda-filled family. Wait. No. That wasn’t quite right...Nero cringed at the term he used. There had to be a better way to word it.

 

“Dag-nabbit, must’ve been some leftover demon shit.” Nico ranted as she got out. “Gimme a sec. Nero, get yer butt out here and lift this fer me!”

 

Nero sighed and climbed out of the van. After handing Nico her tool box and lifting the van enough to get a jack under it, she promptly kicked his ankle.

 

“What the-?” Nero frowned, shooting her a look.

 

“Go make sure skinny doesn’t touch anything.” She demanded.

 

Confused, Nero only shook his head, shrugged, and slowly made his way back to his seat. He plopped down on the worn cushion, then propped his boots up on the dashboard.

 

“Yo, V. Sit up here.” Nero called back, looking around in the side-compartment for his gum. “Don’t touch anything, Nico says.”

 

When he couldn’t find it, Nero felt just one step closer to wanting to smash something in. He’d been on edge since Dante’d called him back a few days ago, and though actually getting to deck Dante was satisfying, he needed more than that to take off the edge.

 

V complied with Nero’s request, making his way to the front slowly, cane tapping onto the floor of the van sounding like the hands of a clock ticking by, Nero thought. Only this time, they didn’t know if there was a clock to chase, if they were running out of time, or...maybe, it was a countdown to Nero losing his shit over this entire situation.

 

Nero grunted, feeling anxiety twist in his gut at the sound of V coming closer, opting to get up and head to the back, passing by V in a hurry. “I need a snack.”

 

V watched as the boy rummaged around the mess that the sudden bump in the road caused. Nero tossed things around, generally getting them to where V assumed had been their original place before the impact sent everything flying around. It was no surprise that the van was a constant state of disarray. V had witnessed Nico’s driving from the time the lot of them spent together, when Red Grave was covered in qliphoth roots. However, being in the vehicle itself...it was an entirely different story.

 

V realized that Nero had ‘cleaned up’ the mess and was now rifling through what must have been the snack compartment. Well, not so much rifling through it, but shuffling around trying to look like he’d been searching for something. Nero was stalling.

 

Nero was stalling, trying not to be forced to converse with him. He made the boy nervous, V realized with an amused smile.

 

“Come now, have a seat with me.” V insisted, taking Nico’s place at the front.

 

Nero paused, feeling his ears heat up as he realized he’d been caught stalling. As casual as he’d been, it was hard to be alone with V in the same, small space. Damnit. Nico better hurry up with fixing whatever the heck went wrong back there.

 

“Have a seat with me, Nero.” V gently commanded.

 

The quarterling swallowed, before following, instinctively grabbing a bag of chips on the way to crunch on as he rolled his thoughts around in his head.

 

His eyes went right to V’s form in Nico’s seat--a sight he’d never thought he’d ever see. He held a breath, trying to steady his rampaging thoughts, honing in on what bothered him the most: V had been Vergil, and Vergil was his father.

 

For one, Vergil was very prideful, which made him _vengeful_ , _vindictive_ , _vicious_ , and a whole lot of other words that started with the letter ‘V’. Which, was funny, because V was the complete opposite of everything Vergil had been. In fact, there was a whole list of other words that started with the man’s namesake that Nero could think about--starting with _virtuous_ , despite his deceitful nature.

 

V really didn’t feel like his father. That much, Nero was certain of.

 

“Back sooner than I thought you’d be.” Nero spoke up, slipping a chip into his mouth, trying to ease the tension he felt coiling in himself.

 

He hoped that V wouldn’t say anything, even if the guy noticed. By the devil, Nero hoped V wouldn’t notice.

 

“When, in my stead, had you expected Vergil to return?” V asked, shifting as he opened up his little book, as always.

 

The familiar sight felt like it was a vision from a dream a thousand hours away, Nero thought. The more he stared at V in the reflection of the glass before them, the more he began to connect the moment to moments from one year ago.

 

“Was expecting him, sure.” Nero corrected. “But I was waiting for you, too.”

 

The statement prompted V to stop reading, his eyes in the beginning of a passage.

 

“You speak of me as if I am someone else entirely.” V pointed out, his tired voice seeming a little less tired than Nero remembered. “You and Dante both seem to regard me as a person.”

 

V went on to read the passage.

 

_“The little boy lost in the lonely fen,_

_Led by wandering light,_

_Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,_

_Appeared like his father, in white,”_

 

“Shocker.” Nero didn’t see what point V was trying to make.

 

Confusion bloomed on V’s sharp features. It did not make sense. Normally, the book would always guide him, opening up to just the right page. Perhaps it had been the knowledge that Vergil had left him, perhaps it was fate. However, this time around, the words he read did not make sense. In fact, it had been happening ever since he’d returned.

 

Though he had mostly ignored it whilst he had been with Dante, having the book serve as a feigned distraction, he realized that now every time he sought help from its words, he was left with little more than questions.

 

Nero watched V’s face in the windshield, mulling over their not-so-little problem as he sat back. Playing with the one potato chip in his mouth, he wondered how exactly V had appeared again.

 

Honestly, it was nice to see something other than doom and gloom on V’s face. Nero could get used to this.

 

“You still reading that thing?” Nero asked, not really knowing how to spend his time with V, now knowing exactly what, and who, he was.

 

On second thought, maybe Nero couldn’t get used to this.

 

Despite the positives, and the fact that Nero was about ready to admit that he did enjoy his time fighting alongside V, V had still lied to him. V had still kept his true nature a secret to everyone until the very end. No, that wasn’t right.

 

V had told Trish. Nero had to find out over the course of the past year.

 

Suddenly, there was a part of him that felt like sucker-punching the guy with the Devil Breaker for everything they’d had to go through.

 

“Still playing with that little toy you call an arm?” V replied, eyes flickering up to the windshield.

 

 _Crunch_.

 

Half of the potato chip in Nero’s mouth fell to the floor when V caught his gaze in the glass and held it. Nero grimaced and looked away; he had nothing to say to that. Hell, he was getting more annoyed with how snooty V was acting, despite the circumstances. Still…

 

“Hngphh…” Nero grunted back in a failed response.

 

...did this mean that his father was a full devil-monster-thing, again? Well, they’d been getting calls about weird monsters and stuff, but nothing out of the usual demon infestations. Nero surmised that it must’ve been just a demon or devil thing to want to come to the human world.

 

Ever since he’d grown his arm back, those bastards had been talking about ‘how tasty he smelled’ or something like that.

 

Nero ate the chips he’d been playing with and sniffed his own hand, wondering what exactly he smelled like, before sticking two more in his mouth.

 

“Hmm…” He sighed, playing duck-lips with the chips.

 

V didn’t seem like he was particularly bothered by the fact he was here and that nobody had any clue as to where Vergil was. Maybe he was worrying about this too--

 

 _Slip_.

 

Spindly, almost spidery fingers delicately pinched the top potato chip from the two in Nero’s mouth. They gracefully slipped the snack from between his lips, and out of sight, before Nero heard a _crunch_.

 

V was eating the potato chip.

 

V was eating the potato chip that had been in his mouth.

 

Nero’s jaw fell open and he stared incredulously at the slender, tattooed man sitting in Nico’s seat. The other potato chip he’d been playing with fell onto his chest, covered in drool.

 

Slender fingers returned, and that potato chip was gone as well. Nero couldn’t move. He had no idea what to say or do.

 

_Crunch._

 

“Hm.” V hummed casually.

 

“You-...V…!” Nero stammered, finally able to say something, even if it wasn’t much. “Dude, that was--”

 

“Yes, it was quite disgusting. I don’t enjoy soggy chips.” V replied, eyes trained on his little book. The strawberry sundaes had made him hungry--perhaps it was the sugar.

 

Strange, V had never felt hunger before.

 

_“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”_

 

Nico grunted as she kicked the new wheel into place, yelling at Nero. “Stop screaming like a little baby, I’m done!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Well, I don’t know if this was enough for this chapter. I wanted to add one additional scene, but thought it’d be better to save it for the next chapter! I wonder if enough happened in this one, but it’s already gotten to 7k words so haha!
> 
> I really hope that the tonal shift between how V is with Dante and how he is with Nero was obvious. I felt that, from the gameplay, while Dante’s older and he’s a lot sharper than Nero when it comes to things, he’d probably suspect about V during their time together. I wanted to reflect that in how Dante plays with V in the palm of his hand as sort of payback with what happened in DMC5, where V is the one getting Dante to do what he wants.
> 
> When it comes to Nero, V tends to tease him and baby him a little, I noticed. Why did V even bother finishing off the Goliath for Nero? V didn’t gain anything from doing so, and he even gave the leftover horn to Nico for Nero to use. So things are more relaxed and casual with Nero. 
> 
> Urgh, I love the different dynamics between the Sparda household! (Tbh, they should all just live happily ever after and have Nico, Kyrie, Trish and Lady do the same--LESBIANS! LOL jk. Mostly.)
> 
> Once again, HAPPY SPARDACEST WEEK! 
> 
> I really hope that this week happens again next year, especially because of the wonderful addition of V to the Sons of Sparda. Honestly, I’ll always see him as somewhat of a Roxas character, where he is Vergil but he’s also his own person at the same time. It works.
> 
> See you on the next chapter! (Which, I think will likely be posted after #SpardacestWeek)
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06
> 
> Links to Inspiration:  
> https://twitter.com/ZsySain/status/1115719020202713088  
> \---


	4. Vague, Vexing, Veiled, Vital (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> Ahh, my DMCV fever doesn’t seem to be ending! THANK YOU ALWAYS ALWAYS TO THE AMAZING @AShyCryptid FOR SO PATIENTLY BETA-ING FOR ME! (Seriously, Cry-san always has to witness the horrible mess the fragmented scenes I write are before suddenly by magic, they become a chapter….)
> 
> Here we’ll be having a look at some of the quality time Dante and V spent together! (Mostly because there’s way too much good shit on Twitter from Spardacest Week and I am affected!) 
> 
> I think that the slow burn in this fic will be between Nero and V! I had a vague idea of it before, but it’s turning out to be more in this direction than I expected. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06

\--- (June 21, 9.43 PM)

V resisted the urge to mimic the yawn Nero let out. He sat in the corner, using the back of Nero’s seat to lean what little weight he had on. No wonder Dante had always claimed this seat on the van. It was a comfortable spot, V decided.

They had been on the road for the entire day, and V was surprised to find himself feeling like a caged bird. Despite his easily-tired body, he decided it was more comfortable to be out and about instead of being brought around in a vehicle.

Odd, he’d never felt this...sluggish--yes, that was the right word--before, V noted.

V felt himself smile when Nero let out another yawn. Ah, it had been quite the enjoyable time when they had teamed up to take down his other half a year ago. He admitted that it would be yet another lie if he did not acknowledge how he felt when in the boy’s company.

Though Dante had been the more reliable of the two during their previous time in Red Grave, V had to admit that Nero had been...hm. He did not have quite the word.

Nero had been more manageable, but that was not quite all there was to it.

“Coffee?” Nero asked, turning to Nico.

“Hell yeah…!” Nico said enthusiastically, with a less less pep in her voice than usual. “I think there was a nice lil’ shop round these parts. Let’s go find it!”

V found himself smiling wider, the air was comfortable. There was a similarity in the feeling he had whilst in Dante’s arms and right then, right there, with Nero and Nico in the van. The vague feeling stuck to him potently, despite the lightness of how it felt.

A...warmth...

.  
.  
.  
(????, ??:?? ??)

V slowly exhaled, hands tracing the rough flooring made of roots and organic material. He could see the blood flowing through the veins that ran through every fibre of the qliphoth’s floor. Like a bloody palace for a twisted king of delusions.

He knew which king sat itself upon the twisted throne before him. Despite this, V found himself swell with emotion when Vergil removed himself from the seat and turned in his stride to face him.

In a flash, V felt his chest give, weak flesh and brittle bone doing little to stop the Yamato from piercing him through.

“It’s past your bedtime.” Vergil taunted cruelly.

V let out a vexing, agonized cry.

.  
.  
.  
(June 22, 3.00 AM)

Nero pressed his hand firmly against V’s open mouth, biting on his own tongue as he felt the softness of V’s parted lips against his palm.

V stared up at those piercing blue eyes, his throat tight and sore. A muffled cry finally registering in his ears as his own.

“Hey, calm down…!” Nero hissed, crouched over V.

V inhaled sharply through his nose, hearing his own breath hiccup with the remnants of a sob.

V’s eyes welled up with tears as he glanced over to find Nico asleep in her seat, curled up with something in her arms to serve as a pillow. Looking closer, it was a teddy bear with its right arm in a sling--was it supposed to be Nero? The ridiculous sight had V’s dread fading away, replaced by amusement.

“Found the cafe, but it was closed.” Nero explained with an amused chuckle, finally letting go of V’s mouth, eyes lingering on it.

“I…” It had been a dream, V realized.

No, a nightmare, he corrected.

“Was it bad?” Nero asked, the concern furrowing his brow. “You’re crying...”

Nero closed in on him, making V curl in on himself reflexively. A hand, bare of a Devil Breaker, paused just as it reached for his face. V had yet to take in what was transpiring when Nero quickly turned away after a look of realization.

V’s eyelids fluttered, lashes wetting with tears that fell onto his cheekbones. A blue handkerchief pressed against the damp skin, drying it. V looked up to find Nero drying his tears.

“...thank you, Nero.”

Nero’s eyes shot wide open, the fragments of sleep that had been in them flying away. He saw the broad back, clad in a coat of black and blue, the silvery hair like Dante’s--like his own--slicked back in that cocky style.

He felt his chest lurch and his stomach turn at the memory of the terrible, and yet wonderful moment, when the veil that had been V, had been removed.

It took a look of concern from V to snap Nero out of his thoughts.

“Nero?” V questioned, voice raw with sleep and his earlier sob.

It took V’s hand gently caressing the side of his face to bring Nero back to the moment.

A spark of what felt like fire erupted on his skin where V’s fingers touched, and Nero quickly removed himself from the other man’s space.

“Sorry…” The younger man apologized.

Even in the dim light, filtering in from the street lamp, V could see the red tint on Nero’s ear.

Nero’s mind was back to racing, careening at a thousand miles an hour, screeching turns and flying faster than even Nico could recklessly drive.

V found himself smiling again as Nero stammered out several excuses. He understood why Dante took a liking to him.

“Sorry, I just..it’s...I swear I’m not like Dante, I…” Nero tried to sound coherent, utterly failing.

...no, that was inappropriate.

“V...remember what happened…” Nero’s voice grew strained. “...after Malphas?”

V found himself pressed against the seat, recalling the terror he had felt at that time. The thundering footsteps, creeping closer and closer. A monster that he could not hope to overcome, making its way over to him to exact unspeakable acts upon his frail form.

And then, Nero came.

With a silver bullet, he pierced through that terror, vanquishing it with a quip. Then, he vanquished Malphas.

“After you rescued me...and witnessed my vile state?” V asked in return.

Nero swallowed the lump in his throat he didn’t know he had until that moment. “...you don’t.”

V’s stare of slight shock was all Nero needed as confirmation. Quickly, he waved it off and turned to return to his seat, when V stood up.

Oh, V was taller than he was, Nero discovered.

“Remind me…” V quietly demanded.

Nero swallowed again, harder this time. His gaze had fallen on V’s neck, long and lithe, covered in bites in the pattern of fangs. There were kiss-marks too--human ones. Both came from Dante.

The quarter-demon felt rage ignite in his gut once again.

“Nero!” V gasped when the boy’s hand wrapped itself around the nape of his neck, causing him to stumble forward.

Warmth, accompanied by calloused fingers, glided up his neck. A look of fury and concentration on the boy’s face. Soft tingling, prickles, just under the surface of V’s skin reminded the man of the first time he'd had conscious thought. Like feeling returning to flesh after being deprived of blood for a moment too long.

Slowly, Nero withdrew his hand, glaring at the rosey, new, unmarred skin of V’s neck, collarbone and shoulder. He closed his fist, hiding the flesh, cuts his own fingers had dug into the palm of his hand to draw blood.

Devil’s blood turned out to be pretty useful, Nero thought.

V reached up, fingers tentatively pressing into where he remembered the largest bite mark had been to find no pain, no dents in his flesh, just smooth skin. He stared at Nero, slowly coming to realize the implications of what had just happened.

“Nero…” V began to speak, but had no clue as to how to continue.

Nero turned away, the redness on his ears spreading to his cheeks. It looked dusty in the dim lighting, and V found himself forgetting his previous self-beratement for feeling...inappropriate things, towards the boy.

“Don’t let him do that to you. He’s pushy, I know. But even Dante knows when to-” Nero was stopped by a smooth, long finger pressing into his lips.

What had it been, that Nero had wanted him to recall? What had happened after Malphas?

V caught Nero’s gaze and held it. There were so many things he wanted to ask, and so many things he recalled at that very moment. As the moment stretched out, dragging on, and on, V found himself getting lost in the bright, innocent blue of Nero’s eyes.

It had always been comfortable to be around Nero. It had felt like...home. Up until that moment, that point, standing there, staring at Nero with his finger pressed against the boy’s lips, V had not known what ‘home’ had felt like. Up until then, he had never thought such trivial things.

Then again, were not such trivial thoughts what made man, man?

Dante’s eyes when their lustful gazes met felt like primal desire, cockiness, and intensity. Like magma, constantly searing everything in its path.

Nero was different. Nero’s eyes felt like playfulness, chasteness, with a muted smouldering hiding the brightness of a true flame.

...Nero was hiding something. Perhaps even the boy himself was not aware of it--just as he had not been aware of his inner devil one year prior.

“What are you hiding?” Nero’s voice startled V out of his thoughts.

It had been but a whisper, but the way Nero spoke right through his halting finger at his lips, sent shivers up V’s hand and arm. His belly spiraled into a knot at the tone of Nero’s voice and how he was essentially kissing his fingers with those words.

V retracted his hand, as if burned by that fire he saw hidden in Nero’s eyes. “...pard-”

“What are you not telling me this time, V?” Nero demanded, gaze intensifying.

The mixture of shock, confusion and underlying pain in the way V pursed his lips and furrowed his sharp brow had Nero captivated.

“What are you...not telling yourself?” Nero asked.

V swallowed. The boy had grown in the year they had spent apart. But where V was meant to be the one posing questions, instead, Nero had stolen the moment away, posing his own. And quite a heavy question it was.

“I do not know.” V replied, slowly blinking to break their connection.

Nero felt V pulling away, the way the taller man’s gaze finally fell, breaking away from his own. Awkwardly, Nero watched V’s movements, brows furrowing further.

Having no further answers, V turned, and Nero allowed him to return to his seat.

“Aawh, I thought you were gon’ kiss.” Nico pouted from her seat.

Nero and V both jumped where they stood and sat, respectively.

“NICO!” Nero growled.

.

.

.  
\--- (June 20, 7.00 AM)

Dante watched the form underneath him, the man with silvery hair, usually upright and proper, dead to the world. It was one hell of a shocker, waking up to find his own face, staring back at him. The usual smooth and clean skin had grown the exact same scruff he had grown attached to.

Vergil looked peaceful when he was asleep.

Vergil hadn’t been asleep for almost a year.

Neither had Dante.

Ah hell.

If it wasn’t for how damn attractive their half-demon blood made them to the Underworld denizens, they might have been able to do more than just sword-foreplay and stolen kisses all that time. What a darn waste.

Stupid demons.

Only good for getting the blood going.

Useless when it came to finishing whatever kind of arousal they sparked.

Dante hummed, slowly shifting his weight to look down at Vergil’s face. Haha, they were both getting old, Dante thought, spotting the wrinkles etched into Vergil’s brow under all that hair. Jeez, Verg. They were both turning into ripe old men and he still acted like a stubborn kid who didn’t want to admit all he needed was a nice fuck and a warm hug.

….wait, that wasn’t the right order those came in, was it?

...nah, didn’t matter.

Dante began to wonder what it would look like when Vergil woke up. Would he yawn? His hair was a fantastic mess. They really looked alike. Also, it was funny how they had the exact same hair length, despite being apart for so long, and reuniting. Speaking of which, Dante needed a trim. Maybe he could have a day out with--

Vergil began to convulse, hands suddenly gripping tightly as a blue light and black ash engulfed his body. Dante jumped, going to embrace his twin.

“Hey, Verge!” Dante cried.

Nothing was ever simple with Vergil.

“MOTHER!” Vergil screamed, his voice shifting tones, diving deeper from one familiar resonance to another.

V trembled, shuddering in Dante’s embrace, breath light and exhausted. Dante inwardly groaned. He shifted, hoisting V up to nuzzle into his neck. V would have to make up for yet another stolen honeymoon moment Dante had been looking forward to.

Damnit, Vergil.

V gasped in his arms, hands relaxing from balled fists. He took in a slow breath, and Dante found himself holding his own as V opened his eyes.

Dante smirked. “Mornin’ Mystery Man.”

Dante admired how V so vulnerably shifted closer, seeking comfort in him.

“I do not believe I am such a mystery at this point, V replied, sultry voice low and strained.

Oh, V was the one without a clue this time around, Dante thought mischievously.

.

.

.

\--- (June 21, 12.01 PM)

V bit down into the pillow, muffling his earnest cry. The thickness inside him pushing far past his limit, the ridges of the demonic organ threatening to split the delicate skin of his overtly stretched anus.

“Dante…! S-slowly…” V pleaded, gasping between his words.

Dante’s sharp fangs teased the skin of V’s nape, barely prickling the flesh. But with how delicate the man beneath him was, it was enough to draw blood. The fresh mark was just the latest addition to the roadmap of inches of skin claimed by the half-devil.

“Oh…” was all V could mutter, body pushed to near-exhaustion by how many times Dante had decided to claim him with his seed.

Already slick and wet from their first and second round of coupling that same, late morning, V could feel his frail body becoming overwhelmed by the devil on top of him.

“Ohmph…” V muffled his cry into the pillow once more, body jerking forward in short thrusts as Dante began a steady pace. “Hnnh...te...nnnh...te…”

“RGHH...GRRGHH...RRRH...RHH...RHH!”

Dante crooned, deep, hellish voice bubbling in his throat, body shuddering with each thrust that brought him back into the delicate tightness of V’s body. Massive claws dug into the windowsill past the headboard of the bed, splintering the already damaged wood. The floor was just as bad for wear, clawed feet digging into the planks of wood on either side of the bed. The sheer size of his Sin Devil Trigger form having made mating with V a perilous occasion.

The sight of the much too thin, much smaller man under him, jumping forward with each buck from his hips had Dante thrust upward, losing control for a moment. “RRGH!”

V cried out, Dante’s massiveness inside of him more than enough to lift his lower half off the mattress entirely. “Dante!”

At the cry, Dante stilled, terrifying face snapping down to see V’s lithe thighs, uselessly dangling from either side of his fiendish dick, knees unable to find purchase, being too high from the mattress beneath.

V looked delicious like that, completely at his mercy.

A evil mischief reared its ugly head from Dante’s core at the thought, drinking in the sight for a moment, before flexing his lower muscles. Inside the tightness of V’s body, his cock twitched, causing the man to yelp and jump. Dante contemplated with the fragment of human coherency he had left, lost in his need to fuck, wondering if he should sink the last few inches of his near-impossible girth into the man.

“Ohh...you are...misbehaving...Dante…” V twitched and reached back, twig-thin fingers grasping at the armored ridges of his collarbone.

Much to the devil’s surprise, V pulled himself up, settling what little weight he possessed onto Dante completely, plump, bruised lips pressing into his scale-armored cheek. The new position pushed his cock deeper into the small frame, a push that sent a bolt of convulsion up the man’s body.

“Ah-...!” V gasped, free hand reaching down to rub the new girth at his middle, courtesy of Dante’s pulsating sex inside of him.

“Gghn...rrghn…” Dante snarled low, his new docility strange even to himself.

V licked his lips, mouth still peppering Dante’s face with feeble kisses. He smiled, toes finally able to touch the bed under them as Dante leaned back, claws removing themselves from the windowsill and going to support the length of V’s thighs.

“Mmh….yes...good boy…” V encouraged, almost condescendingly. “Slowly...ah...lift me…”

Slowly, Dante lifted the small human on his cock up, relishing the way V’s body shuddered and arched.

“Ah...there...yes…” V moaned, a slow, sensual melody of words that Dante barely registered, yet somehow understood. “AH-...there...stop…!”

Dante couldn’t find it in himself to disobey. He questioned it, wondering why it was that he suddenly felt compliant to the man he’d been so mercilessly fucking up until that point. Stilling, the head of his dick still stretched V open, deep enough to rub the narrow tightness right where his insides began to wind.

V leaned back into Dante, small form arching like a dainty bow, pulled tight. Both hands went around the thickness of Dante’s neck. Then, a teasing, smouldering pleasure, alerted Dante to V’s next move.

There, suspended above the cock that was barely inside of him, yet piercing him as deep as Dante in his human form could, V began to swivel his hips. The thickness of Dante’s cockhead pressed into that sinful, secret place inside of him. With each rotation his hips made, he fucked himself atop the demonic shaft’s tip.

Dante could only growl and groan, hissing with each clench around his head, V teasing him. “Rg..h...HRGH...Rrr….rh...RHH!”

V smiled wide, the slow dance bringing him closer and closer to his peak once more, but he stilled himself, before he could fall. “Now...as you like…”

Dante complied, dumbfounded at his own lack of self-will, pulled along with V’s words to do precisely what the man wanted. He dropped his arms, plummeting V down onto his crotch and stabbing deep into the man.

“AH-!” V’s chin flew up, his stomach distending. “DANTE!”

The call of his name was more than just a lusty cry--it had been a command. One that compelled Dante forward, clawed hands going to the floor, massive body pushing V back down onto the bed, face-first. The devil’s hips snapped back, forcing V to hold onto the sheets lest he be lifted alongside the cock in him.

“OH!” V choked. “D-DANTE…!”

He felt the devil leave, the fullness inside of him forcefully yanked, eased only by the slickness of the seed already inside of him. Then, just as suddenly, Dante surged forward, filling him to bursting once more.

“YES!” V sang, voice almost shattering.

At a sudden, hectic pace, Dante began to mate V,--like a mindless animal--hips compelled by V’s encouragements in the form of broken cries, moans and gasps. Summoning what shred of strength he had left in him, V lifted his hand to caress his midriff.

“Ah…! Da-AH! Nnn...Te…!”

He felt it swell, then shrink, then swell and shrink. Over and over, each buck from Dante driving into him and filling him with more than he could bear.

“DA-!” V’s cry was interrupted by his own climax.

As pure white painted the sheets and V’s pale legs, Dante continued, not having been given permission by his precious human to finish.

“OH! DANTE! AH-!” V’s words failed him, the fucking carrying on without his control. “NGH-..AH! DANTE!”

He continued to spill his own seed, an endless river of pleasure forced upon him by the massive cock that continued to breed him past his limit.

“RGH-! HRGH!” Dante pounded into his partner, V’s command driving him to hold his own climax until the man beneath him was satisfied.

“AH-! AAH! DAN-!...UH-!” V felt his will give out, control flying completely out of his grasp, pleasure overriding his senses.

On and on, Dante thrust deep into the man, sending V into a frenzy of overstimulated cries.

“OH...N--..DAN...N-NO…MO-...!” V continued to bounce against the hardened hips, coherency having left him a moment ago, but he finally managed to weakly string together his words. “E-ENOUGH...I…”

But Dante was too far gone, seeking permission for his own end, hips only quickening their frantic pace.

“FILL ME!” V finally gasped, understanding what it was Dante needed to hear.

“RRRGGHHHH!!” With a earth-shaking roar, Dante finally stilled, buried as deep as possible inside the frail man.

V’s mouth fell open in a soundless scream, his stomach bubbling with the torrent of seed bursting forth from the devil inside of him.

.

.

.  
\---(June 20, 1.10 PM)

Dante was sure that next to pizza and strawberry sundaes, sex therapy was probably the best thing to ever have been invented by the human race. Of course, demon-slaying came in a very close third place.

In contrast to how vulnerable and exposed V had been when he’d first realized he’d lost his familiars, he’d gotten quite...docile, this time around. It was sexy and Dante would be damned if he wasn’t going to enjoy it.

And sure, having V behave more akin to his usual self and knowing that he was the handsome devil responsible did stroke Dante’s ego more than just a little.

“The boy…”

V startled Dante out of his thoughts. He looked up at the man standing before him legs spread wide by his own hands, V was as bare as that first morning he’d woken up all-white. Only this time, he was covered in marks of a different kind, in place of the missing tattoos.

Dante’s hands stopped, midway down V’s thigh, fresh demon cum still leaking down from between the man’s legs.

“Nero?” Dante asked, but it was obvious that V couldn’t mean anyone else. “He’s doing great. He’ll be picking you up tomorrow for your first date.”

The way V turned halfway to leer down at Dante, being drenched in warm shower spray made the half-devil’s blood electrify with interest.

“Please tell me that you jest,” V groaned tiredly.

From where Dante was crouched on the floor of the shower, he could just barely catch the glint in V’s eye. Oho, was he excited at the thought of meeting Nero again? Maybe they both could stand benefit from a little more honesty with each other. Hell, not like V had any more secrets he could possibly keep after all the crap they’d been through.

“Nope. What, don’t want to see him?” Dante teased, slipping a finger into V’s abused hole. “That’s cold. He sure missed you.”

“Oh-...!” V shuddered and craned his head back at the invasive feeling. “I...deceived him…”

His insides throbbed, sore and swollen from where Dante caressed him, too deep inside, stomach throbbing. Again and again, he’d been filled, pushed past his body’s size limit, overflowing--quite literally--with Dante.

Dante hummed, drinking in the sight of V’s plush, pink hole, standing out stark against the pale globes of the ass that was surprisingly perky despite the man’s boney frame. He parted the beautiful round cheeks as far as he could, sliding his tongue inside.

“Nphh..yer...quite...mmm...a liar…” Dante said between sucks and licks.

Brought to the brink, V had been drowned in the feeling, a desperation from being devoured so intensely and wholly, by the one his whole self regarded as his missing piece.

“Ah- Dante...do not..speak...whilst you are...oh!” V’s voice peaked and faltered, despite his stern words.

Dante stroked V from the front, pumping his slender dick in time with each wriggle and fuck of his tongue.

Until at last, for one single moment, V had forgotten the deep, terror-born lust for power. Instead, it was overrun, overtaken, overblown by the lust that Dante poured into him, feeding him from every little crack in his person.

“However…” V panted. “You are...correct…”

That moment had been enough.

“So I must...ah...r-right...ah! The….wrong...nggmm…” V finished his thought, just as his body too finished, peaking high.

He shuddered, Dante’s tongue writhing against the soft sensitive place inside of him till the very end.

Dante straightened up, taking V into his arms and lifting the man by his thighs and ass off the floor, forcing V to lean back into him.

“Dante…” V breathed.

“Yeah…” Dante purred, shifting V so that he could hold him properly, like a newlywed bride, before exiting the shower.

Moving V to one arm, Dante wrapped him in a towel, before setting him down on the bed, then going back to shut the shower off. He quickly rejoined the man, nipping at the bite marks he left on V’s neck, collarbone and chest, pride at his handiwork swelling. V shut his eyes, accepting the caresses and touches. Every bite, every kiss that was meant for Vergil, he responsibly took them all.

“...I’m satisfied.” Dante smiled.

V chuckled. “You may be...for this day.”

There was nothing for V left to do, but walk onward--towards whatever end awaited at the end of this peculiar circumstance.

.

.

.

\-- (June 22, 12:01 PM)

Dante mused--somewhat troubled, but also more so curious. He was...satisfied alright. After a quick kiss and a cuddle that morning, he wasn’t itching to do much more than one round. A few bite marks here and there, and a quickie in the shower, and he was good for the day.

...that wasn’t right.

Hmm, maybe it did feel kind of good to not constantly be wanting to pin something down and stick his cock in it. In V’s case, it was a darn shame that he was satisfied, because damn was that skinny ass great.

...still, there was definitely something wrong with him.

“Dante.” V slipped his cane around Dante’s neck, whispering into his ear like he was a pet. “What thoughts trouble you?”

...or rather, everything felt right. Now that, was weird.

V approached Dante, where he sat at his desk. It was like the first time they met, the first time he’d ever laid eyes on Dante this way. Not even Vergil had memories of Dante’s disastrous office, or how he lounged at his chair, feet up on the wooden table like a barbarian. Seeing him like this now, V had to wonder...was Dante always like this?

Did he sit at this chair, daydreaming, thinking, wondering...where Vergil had been all this time? Seeing as Dante and Nero found each other, it was no surprise that Dante had managed to find his way all the way to Fortuna. It was the only reason Nero would have had the Yamato as well.

The bottles, the boxes, the papers and the magazines...how long had Dante behaved like this?

Dante smiled, his usual sly smile. “Nah, just...wondering what kind of shiny new red coat I should order. I mean…”

Dante glanced over at the old coat he’d donned last year, a gaping hole where a sword had been jammed though him.

Dante had been staving off his feelings of loneliness after having lost Vergil to the Underworld, all this time, V reasoned.

And then...Red Grave happened. Once again, Dante had to take a sword to his brother. Only this time...they returned together--a little more understanding, a little closer, a little more like the brothers they had once been.

So then...why was it, that he was the one there, being pulled into Dante’s waiting lap, instead of Vergil?

“Dan--” V protested but only slightly, allowing Dante to do as he pleased.

“Hey now, don’t be so shy.” Dante chuckled, sliding his hand up V’s exposed thigh. “After all that? A little kiss isn’t too much to ask for, is it?”

V looked good in just an oversized sweater, Dante concluded, licking his lips. The sweater having been one that he himself had worn to sleep a couple nights ago--with V walking around smelling like him, it was starting to stir up what little libido he had left.

_**“You haven’t changed in the slightest.”** _

Dante’s eyes flashed red, his inner demon flaring up at the voice that sent his mind reeling. His chair flew into the wall, almost shattering, mighty wings knocking his desk over with a loud thud.

“RRGHHH!”

That voice.

“UGH-!” V gasped in surprise, flailing.

With his familiars gone, he had little idea as of what to do other than use his cane. Claws reached for his neck, but the sheer size of Dante’s devil hand took hold of his entire torso, the momentum and weight sending him to the floor.

“Dante!” V cried out, staring up at the sinful form that had seeded him and held him down time and time again these last couple of days...only this time, Dante did not listen.

“HAHHH...RRHH…!” Dante heaved, trying to wrestle control back from his sudden fit of rage.

But that voice...he knew that voice...

...that voice was was always drawing Dante near. That voice always bringing Dante towards blood. Always, always going away and threatening to never return to him...

...but always returning.

 _ **Whack**_!

V’s silver silver cane, tipped at the edge, whipped into the side of his head, cracking a horn in the process. With the same frightening speed, it hooked around Dante’s neck, roughly yanking him down.

“Be still, Dante.” V commanded with a firmness in his tone; like a mother scolding her child.

Dante paused, his claw right at V’s neck in an even exchange of threats. His demonic form shattered, the voice soothing him instantly. He panted heavily, adrenaline and fire subsiding. It was like someone had stuck a sword through him all over again, shutting his body down. Unlike all those times though, he didn’t feel the need for a nice long dirt nap.

“...guess I need a drink…” Dante didn’t feel like himself.

His now human hand caressed the marks on V’s neck. There was something about all of this feeling so right that made him think it was somehow wrong.

If Vergil sent him into a rampage of bloodlust, fucklust and hunger, V was the opposite. His touch was filling, soothing--like a balm on burnt skin. Or, maybe it was because the circumstances had changed.

...maybe because, Vergil had technically come back with him, Dante wondered.

There was no denying that this occurrence had disturbed Dante as much as when he was told about Urizen a year prior.

“Why do I feel like you’re up to something?” Dante asked, frowning when V pulled away.

V gave Dante another light peck, before pulling away.

“I assure you, I am as lost as to this peculiarity as you are, Dante.” V confessed. “However, mulling over my predicament without acting will not resolve anything.”

Dante grunted. He hated having to overthink anything. Which was why he wanted to get Red Grave over with as soon as possible when he’d been sent there. Not that he was given much choice, knowing the situation. He could never say no to Vergil.

“Get some air, Dante,” V suggested, with a light kiss on Dante’s forehead, before pushing the man off of him.

At the suggestion, Dante allowed V to nudge him away--again, wondering why the hell he was letting this guy push him around after the last time...after he’d been pulled along before. Ahh, maybe he really was turning into a perverted old man who’d do anything for a beautiful face. Or well...Vergil’s beautiful face. That...did that work that way?

Nope. Dante wasn’t going to overthink this.

“Yeah, yeah…” He sighed, getting up and tossing his desk and chair back to where they belonged.

After a pause, Dante went to pick the phone off the floor too, setting it back on the table.

“Sorry.” Dante shrugged.

V sighed, pinching the space between his eyes. “Do not bother apologizing. Please. Get yourself some fresh air. You musn’t stay indoors all day like this, Dante.”

Dante snorted. “You’re the reason I’ve been indoors all day. More specifically…” Dante cleared his throat to emphasize the meaning of his words as he turned towards the front doors to leave. “In bed, all day.”

V watched as Dante left, tapping his cane on the ground once, pondering what had just transpired. Out of the blue, Dante had snapped at him, completely unprovoked. It was obvious that Dante was as disturbed at their predicament as he was. As happy as Dante seemed to be caring for him, spoiling him in ways the man had only dreamed of doing for so long--these actions were not meant for him. Those words...caresses...kisses...

...they were reserved for Vergil.

V’s brow furrowed. He turned to return to Dante’s room, finding his book sitting on the pillow atop the bed. It was not where he had left it--Dante had lovingly placed it there. It was Vergil’s book after all.

V sighed, going to take the book into his hands. He stared at it longingly. The book looked familiar, yet foreign to him. Like, he had been borrowing it from someone. It felt different in his grasp somehow.

After a few minutes, the door opened, a voice calling out into the empty office.

“Dante?” V asked, walking towards the railing.

He stopped, heart jumping at the sight of Nero, covered in blood.

There was his solution, V thought. Yes. Just like before, only this time, this time it would be a joint effort. If he could find the words to explain to Nero, to apologize...together, they could move forward and find the answer to the problem of his sudden, solo reappearance.

Nero glanced up and their eyes locked.

All at once, V recalled the moments he had shared with the boy. Revealing his past at the house the had been birthed in...the playground...their meeting at Red Grave...the hospital room...all too much at once.

V gasped, withdrawing back into the room, breath short.

Stumbling inside, he gasped, hands shaking against the cold wooden floorboards. But it was not the same as before...his body was not wracked by terror, nor the crushing feeling of solitude. His chest was light, almost flying free. What was this feeling? This rush?

“Nero…” V breathed, a treacherous smile creeping its way onto his lips. “Once more...shall we play together?”

He needed to calm down.

It would not do to have Nero see him in such a state. First; something to cover his bottom half. For the sake of decency of course. He wasn’t Dante, afterall.

Oh?

Did that thought come from himself...or from Vergil?

WHAM!

Ah. There was no time for that. It seems that Nero has lost his temper at Dante once again. There was much work to do. Where would this adventure with Nero take him this time?

V had to wonder.

.

.

.  
\--- (June 22, 7.01 AM)

V had to wonder.

“What are you doing?” Nero frowned, leaning away from V slightly.

“Nothing. I was simply curious.” V pointed out. “Have you bathed since yesterday?”

“...forgot.” Nero admitted, turning to sniff his own arm. “Do I stink?”

“...no.” V raised a brow; Nero’s lack of stench was what was peculiar.

He was certain that he had seen Nero drenched in blood and gore the day before, however. Where had that gone?

Hm.

When he had consumed the snack he’d picked off of Nero’s chest, it had been covered in spit--not demon blood. Where had that gone?

“Yeah, you know what? Can you tell smelly red rover over there to shower more often?” Nico asked, returning to the van with coffee, snacks and other bags in hand.

“I could try.” V said, getting up from the driver’s seat.

Taking Nico’s spot whilst she was away was becoming a bad habit. However, it was not like V had any other choice but to sit there if he wanted to converse with Nero.

“However, taming a devil takes more than a bit of effort.” He teased, tapping his cane on Nero’s chin as he left Nico’s seat.

“Hey!” Nero snapped.

V simply smiled at him. “Go shower.”

Nero got up, frowning deep. But if V was going to complain, he’d rather not have to deal with him and Nico ratting on him their entire mission. That would suck. Venturing to the back where the shower was, Nero tossed his jacket off, pulling his shirt over his head.

“OH!”

He turned, just in time to see V quickly putting the cup of takeaway coffee down on the snack counter. His hand was bright red.

“What are you doing?” This time, it was Nero’s turn to scold him.

He marched over, yanking the fridge open and taking out a handful of ice. Crossing the distance between them in one stride, Nero took V’s hand and pressed the ice into the spot of red. It was deep--almost like V was bleeding from a gouge instead of being scalded.

“Ahh…” V sighed in relief. “Pardon me…”

Nero had to look away at V’s deep green eyes, peering down at him. Fuck, it was awkward with this guy being taller than him. He could feel the man’s gaze bore into him, thought he was looking down at V’s hand, trying to focus on it as best as he could. The last time V had looked at him like that…

Again, the image of V’s flesh crumbling, falling apart into delicate, white ashes, came back to Nero’s mind. For a year, it was one of the memories he’d replayed over and over in his head.

“Better than that.” Nero concluded, thinking aloud that he’d rather have V scalded like this instead of falling apart into nothingness.

“What?” V questioned, his eyes trained on Nero.

The boy really did resemble both Vergil and Dante. There was a softness in his eyes that V recognized from the devil he had recently been bedding. He had grown into a fine young man, despite Dante’s meddling.

“Uh-nothing.” Nero frowned, snapping up to look at V. “Be careful. You don’t have those three to babysit you this time around.”

V’s brows shot upwards. “...you jest.”

Nero grinned, a bright, naughty grin and V found himself admiring. V felt the cold from his hand leave, a tingling ringing in the place where he had been burned.

“Nope.” Nero turned, and made his way to the shower.

V sighed. He was disappointed in himself. How could he have been distracted by the sight of Nero’s bare flesh? Perhaps he had spent too much quality time with Dante.

The thought that he was more venal than he had realized disturbed V.

Once Nero was done with his shower, V realized that something else disturbed him. He had not noticed it until they were well on their way, and Nero had already dressed.

V eyed the arm, jutting out of the end of Nero’s folded sleeve, perplexed. It had not been the same as he recalled. Though, he still spied the gadgets and tools Nico used to create Devil Breakers, he was confused as to how Nero could still utilize them. The human arm had returned.

Searching all his thoughts, V discovered to his alarm that he could not remember how or when Nero had grown the new arm.

Nero had to have grown the arm, for the one he knew Vergil had so callously ripped from his own son had been a devil’s arm. However, even this thought disturbed V. He knew that Vergil had done these things. But he could not...remember what Vergil had done.

There it was again. That gaping vacancy. A valedictory fleeing of loss. Like he was nothing but a valetudinarian.

“You hungry?” Nero asked, practically shoving a croissant in V’s face.

Nero laughed as V reeled back, the look of shock that he’d never seen before looked great! He watched with continued snickers as V grabbed the offending piece of bread from his hand. But instead of taking a bite, V’s gaze stopped at Nero’s arm.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Nero asked, raising a brow, smile still on his face.

If Nero was being completely honest, he’d admit that it felt like a waking dream to be in the same van, heading towards the same place, with V and Nico all over again, for very similar reasons. Though, compared to the trouble with the qliphoth tree, this time around the situation didn’t seem so bad.

Well, a giant demon tearing up the town was bad, but not as bad as world-ending blood-tree. Or, on second thought, Nero probably needed to stop listening to Dante and get his own priorities back in check. Last he remembered, he wasn’t this aloof. Kyrie would be so disappointed in him.

“What? Want to have another go?” Nero asked playfully. “I’ll kick your ass like last time.”

V took a moment to take in what Nero had said.

Nero took a moment longer to realize what he’d just said.

“Uh...wait no…” Nero stammered.

Shit. It had been Vergil he’d fought. Not V. How did Nero get that mixed up!?

“Your father challenged you?” V asked.

To Nero’s surprise, V looked...amused. Huh. He’d expected the guy to be a little more upset than amused. Nope. He still didn’t like that look on V’s face. That look, like V knew more than he was telling.

“Yeah, and I won.” Nero replied awkwardly.

Nico watched Nero nervously rub the back of his neck like a highschool boy talking to his crush for the first time, in her rearview mirror. Man, this kid needed more than just a little bit of an assist. She should seriously consider charging him extra for help in the lovey-dovey department, cause hoo-wee, these two needed help.

Sure, maybe it was weird that Nero had a crush on the guy who was half his daddy, but then again, Dante’d been horsing around in the haystack with the guy who was half Nero’s daddy. Demon families were so damn dramatic.

She rolled her eyes and took a glance at the intersection up ahead, “Hang onto something!”

Nico turned the wheel sharply, sending objects in the van flying, as well as V stumbling, right into Nero. Nero caught him fast, V’s arms bracing themselves around him reflexively. They were thin and feeble, but steady.

“Nico!” Nero barked.

“I warned ya!” Nico snapped back.

V found himself smiling again, using Nero’s body to straighten himself up. Despite his urgent need for answers, the nostalgia of the situation, coupled with the fresh, new moments like this was...enjoyable.

It was fun, being human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note END:  
> More Dante and V versus Nero and V dynamic! I mean, Dante having gotten his hands on V first means he gets all the smexy time he can. But I feel like Nero would have ‘V’s heart’ by the end of all this.
> 
> Tbh, I just want a Spardacest Fuckpile. Everyone in the Sparda household fucks. That’s it. I mean come on, Nero and Kyrie are lovers and they’re related. In the official game description, her relationship with Nero is described as a lover/friend/brother all at the same time. We’re dealing with half-devils here people. Spardacest Fuckpile!!
> 
> Of course, the real ‘clicks’ would be Dante/Vergil and Nero/V. But they all share in that house. Family is family afterall. XDD
> 
> Alright, it’s almost midnight and I am SO TIRED. I literally can’t think of anything else to say right now. I’m going to bed! 
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06


	5. Valorous, Vulnerable, Vindictive, Valiant, Vigilant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NeroV bonding! Plot. Also Nico is awesome. Smut next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Phew. So, I had a meeting with a possible employer that was slated forlike an entire 2 weeks ago. It got put off, again and again, to the point where I thought they just didn’t want to hire me and also had no idea how to tell me.
> 
> Well, the meeting with someone who is apparently this huge hotshot in the industry is tomorrow and I AM A NERVOUS WRECK. I MEAN, I’M PREPARED BUT ALSO NOT PREPARED?!?!?! I DON’T KNOW.
> 
> Anyway, I’m stress-posting. Bless you @AShyCrytid, my Naggu Demon Duke for always putting up with my shit. I have countless spelling errors nowadays because I lack sleep, end up doing way too much work everyday (AND ALL BEFORE EVEN HAVING A JOB, WHO KNEW LOLOLOL)
> 
> Stress aside, please enjoy the chapter! I’m...going to finally go to bed now. 
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06

**.**

 

**.**

 

**.**

**\--- (June 22, 12:45 PM)**

 

It only took another five hours to reach Red Grave. By noon, Nico had pulled the van up to where Nero had last sighted the elusive creature he’d gone all the way back to ask Dante about.

 

“Let’s go see what kind of bird-brain’s been tearin’ up the town.” Nero declared, throwing his old blue coat over his fresh new clothes.

 

“Nero, don’t strain yourself.” V caught himself saying, before he could come to realize what he was doing.

 

A replay of the first time, he, Nero and Dante had fought together, side by side.

 

Nero paused, halfway out the door, glancing back at V. A defiant smirk stretched his lips as he hurled himself out of the van. “Keep up, then!”

 

V glanced at Nico, who shrugged and gestured towards the door with a thumbs up. He nodded his thanks to her, grateful for how accommodating she was despite the circumstances of his previous dishonesty with everyone.

 

It was a courtyard, one that neither Nero nor V had previously seen in Red Grave. Nero surveyed the area, his senses working overtime to try and pinpoint their next clue as to where their prey had gone.

 

“When you see it…” Nero remarked, glancing back at V. “Try not to freak out.”

 

V raised a brow, smiling cynically at Nero in a wordless rebuttal.

 

“I mean it, V,” Nero replied, shooting him a look.

 

A strange, bouncing sort of noise, accompanied by bells alerted Nero first. He recognized the sound. Nero thought back to the incident with the Order of The Sword. Hadn’t they closed all the portals that allowed these bastards through back home, in Fortuna? Nero shook his head--now wasn’t the time for  _ him _ to freak out. They were here to figure out what was going on, after all.

 

“Scarecrows.” Nero spat, drawing his Red Queen and readying Blue Rose. “Alright girls--and V--time to get to work.”

 

Nero leapt forward, piercing through three bag-bodied creatures at once. Through the pictures in the rucksack flesh, terrible little bugs emerged, exploding outwards in a flurry before disintegrating into nothing. The scarecrows screeched as they vanished, bodies fading instead of remaining on the ground.

  
V shuddered at the sight that reminded him of his own possible fate, had he not found his way to his other half.

 

“Looks like they’re projecting. They’re not really here,” Nero explained. “Nico!”

 

“Yeah, seems like there’s a hole to the Underworld here somewhere!” Nico confirmed.

 

“What, pray,  _ are _ these?” V questioned, the sight of the creatures not at all familiar to him.

 

V decided that he was not fond of not knowing what sort of creatures that they were about to encounter. He felt useless--neither his experience or knowledge was of use here. And worst of all--his access to Vergil’s memories was... _ disconnected _ , somehow.

 

How would V walk forward with nothing behind him to assure him that where he was going was the right path?

 

“Hey, don’t space out on me!” Nero called back.

 

V turned, kissing his lower lip in a sound of annoyance, slicing through a cloth-bag arm wielding a blade just as it made for his neck. “Oh, so you’d like to play with me, do you?”

 

Nero landed, spotting some rather burly, more muted-coloured versions of the Scarecrows that were surrounding them. “They’re trying to corner us!”

 

Nico backed up the van, speeding out of the ring of danger closing in around the two.

 

V glanced back, spotting the new foes emerging from almost every street corner. Nero seemed to be more than a little familiar with these creatures. That thought brought V comfort as he found himself against the boy’s back.

 

V eyed the scarecrows as they bounced around excitedly, sizing them both up. “I do not enjoy being surrounded. I take it that this is not an ideal circumstance?”

 

“Normally, no,” Nero explained. “But we’re not surrounded, we’re just getting them lined up.”

 

**BAM! THUD! CRASH!**

 

V flinched, shutting his eyes to protect them from the dust that flew, as Nico’s van made short work of the foes around them. He sighed, dusting off the clothes Dante had to generously lent him. No matter how many times Nico pulled tricks with her vehicle, V never failed to find himself surprised...and then very shortly exasperated afterwards.

 

With a terrible, grating screech, the van came to a stop.

 

“Those things are attracted to the energy of Sparda,” Nero explained. “Whenever they used to pop up in Fortuna, they were either looking for me, or something else with the same energy.”

 

V watched as the beetles from inside the scarecrows fled, turning into ash, which then also became nothing. He found them reminiscent of the demons he had found dancing around the sword of Sparda, before he had found Dante. Though these demons and those were different kinds of demons, any sort of demon would seek out power where they could. The fixation on Sparda’s power is something all the denizens of the Underworld shared.

 

“Curious,” V commented, pointing towards a single street ahead, where some scarecrows were still shambling and bouncing about. “Seems our prey would be that way.”

 

Climbing back into the van, Nico made sure to hit every single ‘bump in the road’ as they sped towards their destination.

 

Nero took a seat after ushering V towards the cushioned chair coupled with its twin, a table between the two seats. V begrudgingly allowed himself to be herded, the look on Nero’s face told him he was about to speak.

 

After a few moments, Nero did.

 

“Sometimes I wonder...why my father went to Fortuna,” Nero elaborated.

 

V noted how Nico subtly glanced back at them in the rearview mirror. It seems not even she had heard this tale.

 

“Why he had me,” Nero continued, lifting his arm and flexing his fingers, staring at his own hand. “ _ How _ the hell he even had me…”

 

Nero snorted. 

 

An appropriate reaction, V thought. They all knew what kind of man Dante was. V knew very intimately the kind of proclivities towards his brother the man held. Only now, he could not recall exactly what it was that sent Vergil to Fortuna. It frustrated him so.

 

It was obvious that Nero was seeking answers from him--knowing who he was. Who he was meant to be.

 

“I...do not know, Nero,” V confessed, a sigh through his nose escaping him before he could stop it.

 

Nero’s head snapped up, eyeing V up. There was no deception in that tone--just...disappointment. V was telling him the truth. 

 

**_BUMP!_ **

 

Nico ran over a rather large Mega Scarecrow.

 

“I desperately wish I could tell you.” V met his gaze, a troubled furrow in his brow.

 

A knot formed in Nero’s stomach, twisting at the sight of the agony in those green eyes. He hated that look. The only time V ever had that look on his face was when something was terribly wrong. They needed to find some answers quick, for both their sakes.

 

“Do you remember what happened to your...demons?” Nero asked.

 

**_THUD!_ **

 

A splatter of beetles painted the windshield, soon disappearing into ashes and leaving the glass clear.

 

“...I saw you,” V said, averting his gaze.

 

There was something that irritated Nero about V breaking eye contact with him.

 

“There was a bright light. And then...I could see you. I witnessed the memories I had gained as...V…” A lithe, too-thin hand rose, pale and white. Empty.

 

Nero got up from his seat, seeing as the scarecrows in the road had been taken care of, for now. 

 

V could still see those visions clearly. It was as if he was back at the very moment he had merged with ‘Urizen’. His world turned white, and it felt like the first time he had come into being, only in reverse. Where his separation from Vergil felt like he was being propelled through the air, shot out from a murky depth to take a breath of air for the first time.

 

In once again becoming whole, he felt himself being dragged down, uncontrollably pulled into depths of familiar unknown. Back, back into non-existence he faded, the air driven out from his lungs. He could see their faces still, from Urizen’s eyes. Dante was angry. Nero was…

 

...Nero looked as if he was about to cry.

 

In a moment of shared despair, V felt the heart that he had borrowed ache with an unknown grief at the sight of Nero’s pain. Then, white. His hands, his arms, his shoulders, his chest, every part of his skin erupted into ribbons and ash, leaving nothing but white.

 

...alone.

 

With fading consciousness, he watched helplessly as his familiars left him, surging forward to fight, forward to protect him even beyond his end. Loyal to a fault. 

 

“V!” Nero’s hand, clasping around his own, startled V out of his ponderings.

 

V gasped, glancing up, finding his cheeks wet with rivers that surged forth from his eyes. Nero had the same look of pain in his bright blue eyes as that moment. Once again, he had caused the boy unnecessary pain.

 

“I must rewrite the fragments,” V declared, voice strained with agony.

 

In his mind, he had yet to know the reasons behind why those words felt right. However, in his heart--the pain in his chest that could be nothing but a heart--he knew they had been.

 

He felt Nero’s firm hand, without the Devil Breaker, grasping at his shoulder. “V…”

 

“The fragments of these memories...I...it is...I am at fault--” V stammered. “Somehow I know...the reason you brought me here. Is it not because I am responsible? Is it not because I have begun to think of myself as my own...that this has all come to pass?”

 

It was the first time, and probably the only time V had lost his composure like this. Nero couldn’t recall any other time he’d seen V like this, other than when he’d found him in the qliphoth, when he had rescued him from Malphas.

 

“I’m not even sure why this is all happening, alright?” Nero explained, trying to reassure the man, though whole was still--at least emotionally--falling apart in front of him. “I brought you with me because I think you can help. Screw Dante and all that.”

 

“Uh...guys?” Nico interrupted, slowing the van down.

 

It wasn’t like Nico to do that, Nero thought, distressed, going to the front to see what it was. His eyes went as wide as they could go when he saw it. This wasn’t the demon they were looking for.

 

“V…” Nero slowly said. “...you...I don’t know if you’d want to see this.”

 

V emerged from where he sat, trepidation rising from the depths of his gut to his fingertips. With each tap of his cane, his anxiety grew, until he finally stood between Nico and Nero, leaning over to peer out through the windshield.

 

Blackness. Smoke. And deep maroon.

 

V felt his skin break out, gooseflesh covering every inch of his body.

 

“V...is that…” Nero didn’t want to finish.

 

V slowly exhaled, tightening the grip on his cane. It was obvious what exactly it was...who exactly it was they were witnessing. As the large blackness moved, surrounded by more of the same foes as before, it morphed, taking different shapes. Obscured by the night-colored smoke, only two, bright red orbs could be seen, floating within the black mass. The shape lacked form, lacked substance...lacked  _ purpose _ .

 

“I had thought Dante had slain them all,” V finally spoke up, turning towards the side-door. “When they….left me…”

 

Nero got up, jumping out of his side of the car. “Hey, V!”

 

Nico spotted several scarecrows coming their way. She shifted the van into gear and backed up, running over several more. 

 

“Hey! I’ll catch up with you later!” She shouted out of her window towards Nero and V. “Gonna see if I can find that hole, ‘kay?!”

 

“Be careful!” Nero warned her.

 

He gestured his goodbye to her as she sped off, back down the road they came from, before making a turn. He briefly wondered what she was up to, before turning his attention back to V and their current encounter.

 

V stood there, watching the ‘shadow’ move, both hands on his cane which stood in front of him, deep in contemplation.

 

“Dante once told me that he fought something like this, years ago.” Nero explained. “That smoke is armor. You won’t be able to get through it with that cane.”

 

The great, black, cat-like demon snarled and whipped around, moving at great speeds, greater than Nero and V had witnessed before with what they could recall. It was larger in this form than before, larger than even a living tiger. Foe after foe was downed, as the black thing moved about the street, vanishing into the ground, before reappearing to deal deadly blows.

 

“You going to fight him?” Nero asked, loading up Blue Rose. “Cause if you won’t. I will.”

 

V did not reply, but merely raised a hand to place it on Nero’s shoulder as the boy moved to step forward. Nero stopped, turning to shoot V a look of confusion. V continued to watch, not taking his eyes off the creature. 

 

There was an urgency to the creature’s behavior, and yet V was lost as to why it did not simply run. Looking around, V could tell that this part of Red Grave had recently been reconstructed. Had there been something here? Something that was no longer in this place?

 

It was looking for something.

 

Nero was itching to go; it was only a matter of time before whatever the hell Shadow had become, noticed them. “V--”

 

“Have you not gone to sleep forever, my friend?” V asked, voice calm, but filled with grief.

 

“V…let me--” Nero jerked forward, wanting nothing more than to put himself between the frail, lost man next to him, and the threat his former familiar now was.

 

At once, the great beast halted in its tracks, emerging from the ground. It’s eyes moved within the black mass, like a ghost. Oh, but it was a ghost, V reminded. It had always been a ghost. A ghost of Vergil’s nightmares. A ghost of memories that the devil who was a man did not need. A ghost he had once, mercifully given form and purpose.

 

Even without the book. Even when he could not turn the pages to find the passages when he thought he needed them most. Somehow, the words came from within him.

 

_ “My spectre around me night and day…” _ V recited, hand that was at Nero’s shoulder slipping down. _ “Like a wild beast guards my way.” _

 

The beast rushed towards them, at a speed faster than a blink. V and Nero leapt out of its path at the last moment. As they evaded, its shape morphed, great spikes suddenly discharging from its core.  Nero turned, blue wings flashing into existence from his back--a clawed arm stretched out towards V, grabbing the man by his loose clothing and hurling him away from the spines. At the last moment, Nero’s other wing shielded him, blocking several spines from piercing him.

 

“Nero!” V called, landing on the length of the lamp post, sideways. “Destroy his armor!”

 

“On it!” Nero fired several double-shots from Blue rose.

 

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

 

The creature roared, the smoke around it diminishing with each bullet.

 

V leapt from his place, going to join Nero as the boy landed some distance away from the beast. “Faster!”

 

Nero complied, gritting his teeth and taking aim straight head as the shadow melted into the ground.

 

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!**

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!**

**_BANG! BANG! BANG!_ **

**_BANG!_ **

 

With an agonized roar, the creature’s inner core was exposed. Red. Angry. Pulsating. 

 

_ Vulnerable. _

 

V was struck with a sense of déjà vu. A vision, playing out in moving parts, like on a reflection within a pool of water. A devilish smirk, and a bright red coat, black boots landing on the creature’s neck. Ebony and Ivory guns firing at incredible speed. As soon as it came, the vision was gone--a peak into a story that V had once known, but for some reason, was no longer allowed to see.

 

Desperate, the shadow launched its head forward in a long spearing strike.

 

V ducked as Nero leapt, landing on the creature’s elongated neck.

 

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

 

Crimson and angry, it flew into a rage, suddenly rushing forward, faster than Nero could predict. Its form remolded once more, forming massive jaws that took up the entirety of its mass. V sprinted forward, grabbing Nero’s ankle, and yanking him back as the jaws closed around them both.

 

“Hmph!” In a swift, last-minute move, V struck, his cane delving into the gaping maw of the shadow’s hungry mouth.

 

Just as swiftly, he yanked his cane back, stumbling backwards as the creature roared, beginning to shine a bright orange color. Nero jerked his leg up, with V’s hand still around it, pulling V up towards him as they were both were hurled back.

 

**_BAMMM_ ** !

 

The explosion that heralded the shadow’s death impacted them both, sending the shockwave thumping through V’s body. A sharp pain tore up his leg, all the way to the bones at his hip. 

 

Strong arms and blue wings closed themselves around V, forcing him into a ball. They tumbled downwards, Nero holding him fast.

 

“Oophh!” Nero grunted, when they finally bounced off the street, rolling to a stop.

 

V discovered how quickly he was breathing after a few moments, excited, panicked breaths escaping him in quick succession.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Nero groaned out, frowning when he felt some cuts and bruises on his face from the debris the explosion sent flying--Kyrie was going to be upset with him; she didn’t like when he came home looking like this. 

 

“I...believe…so…” V panted out, breathing finally slowing, heart still racing.

 

Nero slowly let the man go, allowing them both to sit up. V dusted himself off as best as he could, lips pursing into a pout at having ruined Dante’s clothes. Nero frowned, still annoyed at the fact that he could still smell Dante’s favorite pizza on V.

 

Then Nero saw blood. Deep and red, in a long line down the side of V’s right leg, the pant leg torn almost all the way up to his hip.

 

“You idiot!” Nero yelled, “Why the hell did you do that?! You’re seriously just--”

 

“Deadweight?” V finished, smiling in amusement despite his heaving breaths. “At the moment, I do agree.”

 

Dante had quite a bit of time to leave an impression on Nero, V mused.

 

Nero clicked his tongue, grimacing angrily. “That’s not--you know what I mean! You could’ve been turned into a shish-kabob!”

 

“...Dante said something similar.” V simply stared at the boy in fascination; he felt no disdain for the insult.

 

This was Vergil’s son. As a consequence, did that not make them family? Dante’s idea of family may have been twisted, but V could not fault him for that. After all, it was the only way two halves of a whole could live, being half of a half himself.

 

Nero got to his feet first, grabbing V by the arm and hauling him to his feet. “I don’t need you watching my back.”

 

V chuckled, hissing through the pain. “Of course not.”

 

Ah, damn. Nero didn’t mean that. Why had he said that? How could he have let V get hurt like that? He should’ve told him to stay in the van. What had he been thinking, bringing the guy all the way out here?

 

“I may be only half of your father, Nero.” 

 

There was something in V’s tone that made Nero eat his own words. He shifted his weight to hold V up better.

 

“However, I am the half that does not wish to see you in harm’s way.” V finished looking relieved--even when nearly useless, he was able to help at least.

 

Nero recalled like it was only yesterday. A thin arm around his chest and shoulders, accompanied by an even thinner cane, pulling him back, and a desperate voice that was thick and heavy with concern.

 

_ “Come on, we must leave here!” _

 

_ “Stop pitying yourself, and think of ways to get stronger and actually help…!” _

 

“Was that supposed to be fatherly advice?” Nero snorted, making a face. “Back then?”

 

He turned to focus his gaze on V.

 

“The first time we tried to fight my father at the qliphoth…”

 

The way V’s brows raised confused Nero before he even spoke. “I was not aware of the circumstances of your conception at the time.”

 

Oh. Well then. So it was just the usual advice.

 

“Figures.” Nero had to wonder whether V would have been more of an ass, or less of one if he’d known from the beginning. “Guess the gratitude was a lie too, huh?”

 

A feeling of offense constricted V’s throat as he spoke his retort. “Urizen may have been false, but my gratitude was genuine.”

 

Though, the boy would not be mistaken to feel some form of betrayal. V contemplated his predicament. He did not feel incomplete; in fact, quite the opposite. He felt as if he was completely in control of his own existence. A feeling that was more unnerving than it was a comfort. What could have possibly happened to cause him to return to this form instead of fading into memory and out of existence?

 

This was not how things were meant to be.

 

“Now then…” V broke the tension between them, not wanting to drag out the unpleasantries any further.

 

After collecting themselves, the two looked towards the smoking remains. Black char sprayed outwards on the cobblestone and the brick of the buildings. Pieces of window glass and rebar littered the street. No sight of the shadow.

 

“Help me over,” V requested, already starting to limp towards the leftovers.

 

“...V…” Nero began, moving to hoist V’s weight onto him, not knowing what else to say.

 

V had just killed his friend.

 

Nero went to stop V from walking any closer, when he spotted something sitting in the center of the blast remains. In the center, were two black...what were those? 

 

**_WOOSH!_ **

 

“V!” Nero leapt forward, picking V up in his arms.

 

V cried out in pain, the sudden movement causing his knee to bend, his wound flaring up instantly. “Urgh!”

 

Distracted by V’s cry, Nero barely managed to avoid the oncoming appendage. A thick, armored tail, that ended with a split spear-like tip, whipped right into Nero’s back. His wings thankfully managed to block most of the impact, but the hit sent them both flying into the building behind them.

 

V clambered off of Nero, in time to see the large, razor-tipped legs, flowing with bright red magma through veins that ran through the length of each one. 

 

“No...how could this be?” V breathed in disbelief.

 

Phantom.

 

They had not encountered the great scorpion-tailed spider during their journey to the qliphoth. It was no surprise that when ‘Urizen’s’ power grew, wiser and more experienced demons like Phantom would have stayed relatively hidden. Phantom was arrogant, but careful. Though he enjoyed showing off his strength when the time was right, that time was usually after a long time, waiting.

 

“What the hell?!” Nero jumped to his feet, the attack doing little more than dirtying his clothes. “What is that?”

 

If only he hadn’t been so useless, V thought miserably, limping slightly. He found it nearly impossible to put weight on his wounded leg. But he was wounded.

 

...and this entire time, he was  _ bleeding _ .

 

Why? That should not have been possible. He was just a shell, after all. Dante had told him that he ‘felt different’...is this what he had meant?

 

“Phantom…” V replied, limping to take cover behind the wall. “The offspring of Phantasmaraneae...he will try to consume you, in order to evolve.”

 

“Great.” Nero snorted. “I’ll give him something to chew on alright.”

 

“Be careful, Nero.” V cautioned. “This one might be another dream.”

 

Nero looked at V. It hadn’t been a warning. Something else--something dark glinted in those deep green eyes. Sure, there was concern there, but a swirl of other emotions were entangled with it in that expression.

 

Nero smirked. “ _ You _ be careful.”

 

**.**

 

**.**

 

**.**

 

**\---(???? ??, ??:?? ??)**

 

Vergil stood on the grass, arms folded over each other, Yamato in one hand, and contemplation in the other. Their favorite tree still stood strong and proud, as it did the day the demons first came.

 

He stared at the small mound under it; not large enough to attract attention, but enough that he and Dante would know, who it was that was asleep there.

 

“So...you’ve been hiding out here all this time?” Dante asked, approaching his brother from behind.

 

Vergil did not bother to turn around, but Dante knew his brother acknowledged his presence. It was impossible to come into this spliced space between existence and non-existence, apart from time and space, without Vergil’s permission.

 

“You mad about that night?” Dante teased, grinning a little.

 

Vergil finally spoke up. “I could cast you out of here.”

 

“Awwh, come on Verge.” Dante pouted, walking closer. 

 

Vergil allowed Dante to close in on him, in this space, he was safe. In this space, Dante and he would never dare harm each other. Dante placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

 

“...what are you thinking about?” Dante asked.

 

Vergil was silent for a moment, staring at the grave. Up until then, he had been screaming, lost and confused. All over again, he was disoriented. But now, things were different. Though some part of him was still there, aware of the other presence inside of him that was his own fault, this part of him here and now--with Dante--he knew what he must do.

 

If only he could convince the part of himself that still denied that spare existence.

 

“The child has returned to Red Grave.” Vergil stated. “Here, you are but a guest.”

 

He turned and placed his hand on Dante’s chest. Surprised, Dante didn’t move--he didn’t exactly hate having Vergil touch him.

 

“Find this place. In the real world.” Vergil instructed--this time, he was going at least be truthful about his intentions.

 

“Oh, are we playing a game?” Dante grinned, excited.

 

With a blast of energy, he sent Dante away, out of his space, out of his mind, whilst he remained. If Dante could find him, even in his dreams, then surely he could trust Dante to find him once again--for real.

 

“Let’s have some fun, Dante.” Vergil smiled, decided that--yes, they should play games every once in awhile; just as they had done in the Underworld.

 

Another intrusion quickly drew his attention.

 

**_“GRAUGH!”_ **

 

A familiar roar, that heralded nightmares and terrible memories that scarred him came. The world around him shook, flashing in blue energies as something penetrated his little piece of heaven, his peaceful space that he had made for himself.

 

Vergil smirked, chuckling to himself.

 

So the game had begun. Once again, he would be reminded of his losses. Loss after loss, and at the very end, what had he gained? Did they have anything to go back to? Dante and he?

 

The black feline beast stalked towards him.

 

“I should have known better.” Vergil spoke to himself, more so than he was speaking to the creature. “One cannot simply kill a nightmare.”

 

Yes.

 

It was impossible to deny even the darkest, most fearful parts of himself. For if he did--did that not simply make him unwhole? Did that not cheapen his existence as a person? All those times he had trudged forward despite his fears and scars...what would they be for?

 

Vergil turned, and looked down. Reaching towards the beast, he stroked the creature’s head. There was no point in fleeing from nightmares--from memories. Fleeing from acknowledging such loss would be...foolishness.

 

“Have you come to taunt me too, as Dante does?” He asked the large feline, but his words were not spiteful.

 

Instead, Shadow found affection in those words.

 

.

 

.

 

.

**\--- (June 22, 1:00 PM)**

  
  


The display of prowess was unlike what V had witnessed before. Unlike a year ago, Nero’s movements were more fluid, more targeted, and his strikes were hard and fast. Powerful.

 

Phantom proved but a little distraction for someone like Nero.

 

“...what form of power...is this?” V found himself questioning, staring at the bright blue wings that he, till now, had not witnessed.

 

Had Nero protected them both using that power? It was no surprise that the boy had remained unscathed despite the numerous, mighty blows he’d been dealt whilst trying to  _ protect _ him.

 

...to protect  _ him _ .

 

Yes. Now that V was patiently waiting at the sidelines, Nero was able to unleash his new-found power without concern for his safety. This time around, V truly was the ‘deadweight’ that Dante had labelled Nero and himself. Only Nero had seemed to finally shrug off that yoke.

 

What was there for V to do now?

 

“Yahoo!” Nero whooped, following his punch with several uppercuts, Red Queen flaming. “Alright, barbeque is just about done!”

 

With a twist, Nero hooked his arm around the tip of one of the great spider’s legs. Taking the razor-sharp claw and holding it fast in his locked elbow, he spun, flinging Phantom downwards and sending him crashing down into the building below.

 

“Ahh, shit!” Nero cursed.

 

V was in that building!

 

“Uuh!” V let out a pathetic cry when the building’s foundations gave, sending him tumbling down.

 

Nero rushed forward, ignoring the spider that scrambled to try and get back onto its feet, its mass too large for it to maneuver its weight. Phantom’s tail flailed and thrashed, whipping about to try and lift itself off the ground, lava spilling from the wounds Nero had inflicted.

 

Phantom let out an agonized, angry cry, tail whipping about to strike Nero down.

 

“Ah...urgh…” V held in his desire to weep, his knees cracking in pain from too much pressure, rubble pinning him to the floor.

 

V tried to push the rubble off of himself, the pain in his leg greater than he had anticipated. He no longer felt like a fragile, fading existence, but a fragile, weak man. A real man. A man who bled. A man who ached. A man who could bleed.

 

Bled, as he did now, desperately spilling blood all over the ground as he heaved, pushing at the rubble with his feeble arms uselessly. His cane lay before him, having been knocked out of his grasp by the impact.

 

“V!” Nero’s voice came.

 

In a moment, stretched out in time, V saw Phantom’s tail, razor sharp, and aim true. His body could not keep up. He knew, even without the mobility-debilitating wound, there was no way for him to avoid the attack. He could not teleport, he could not call on his familiars. He could do nothing.

 

_ Nothing _ .

 

He was nothing now, but a vexatious, vile existence that was vying for meaning, serving only as a foil in Nero’s way. A useless man with a useless human body. Powerless and alone.

 

“V!” Nero’s voice came in a slow, drawn-out echo.

 

...would Nero weep?  _ Had _ Nero wept, the first time V had ceased to exist as his own, living, breathing, flesh?

 

No.

 

He would not be the one to cause any more pain to the boy!

 

**_CRACKLE!!_ **

 

And then lightning came. Bright. Red. Cocky.

 

“V-!!” Nero saw the electric arch strike V, and black ash obscured his vision.

 

The eruption of black ash that evaporated into white fragments of energy blew Nero back, sending him into a nearby building. The red lightning separated V from Phantom, disorienting the spider mid-leap.

 

“GUH!” Nero cried, breaking through three walls before slowing down enough to land in a miserable heap.

 

A crimson cloud engulfed the frail, lanky form.

 

Then, large hands, armored and clawed, emerged from the black and white ghostly flame-like threads of smoke and ash. They moved upward, lifting the feeble body by the ribs and thin legs off the ground, taking V into its arms as the rest of the form emerged. V gasped, staring up at his newly summoned familiar, a demon far too powerful for his body to handle.

 

As the terrifying, armored face came into view, the teeth jagged and sharpened on the terrible visage, the surrounding creatures shrieked and cowered. The demon breathed, and the black and white ash suddenly turned a bright crimson, rose petals appearing in the place of the fragments of V’s power. It was out of V’s control.

 

“How…” V had not the answers; when had he made such a bargain?

 

It would be impossible for V to control this one. Since when had  _ he _ , of all devils, become his familiar?

  
“What…?!” Nero gasped when he finally kicked off the rubble and made his way to the hole he’d made in the side of the building, just in time to see.

 

Those wings. That form. That  _ face _ .

 

The devil let out a snarky laugh, cradling V in one arm, the man too tired to refuse. With it’s other hand, it summoned the great blade of its own namesake and in a flash, Phantom had been impaled by several glowing ghostly, crimson blades.

 

“Dante!” Nero called after the demon, rushing over, his own blue wings appearing with righteous fury.

 

Just as he had appeared, Dante, in his demon form, vanished, leaving V sitting on the curb, with a rose in his lap. His wound had vanished as well, only dried blood and supple flesh remained under the torn pant leg.

 

“Dante! Hey!” Nero stopped just short of V, sighing. “Damnit...what the hell…?”

 

“...I…” V did not possess the words.

 

“That was Dante, wasn’t it?” Nero asked, looking around for any sign of his uncle, before turning to look back at V. “...wasn’t it?”

 

“I believe...that it was,” V replied, picking the rose off his lap.

 

Hm. V was not aware,  _ that _ sort of contract could be made between a male human and a male devil. He wondered if Dante knew. Though, he wasn’t certain exactly what sort of requirements needed to be met in order to summon Dante in his Devil form again.

 

Curious.

 

Nero growled, giving into the rage that bubbled up from when he’d found V at Dante’s, wearing his damn clothes, smelling like his damn smell. 

 

Slowly, stealthily, Phantom raised its tail. From where it was hidden in the mess of rubble, it could easily strike at both men at once. Curling its tail up under the cover of broken wall and metal beam, it launched it at full speed.

 

V moved to warn Nero; but the boy moved faster than he could speak.

 

Nero turned suddenly, blue light engulfing his form, two clawed fingers catching Phantom’s tail between them like it was nothing more than a pin.

 

“YOU’RE PISSING ME OFF!” Nero roared, bright, golden eyes flaring in hatred and rage.

  
That day, V witnessed Nero’s Devil Trigger for the first time.

 

That day, Phantom was finally slain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note END:
> 
> So...DID YOU EXPECT DANTE??? Please tell me you didn’t, I was hoping that it’d be a funny little plot-twist. I mean, devils grant wishes/make pacts right? In this case, if Dante was a full devil in his Sin Devil Trigger form and he and V were fucking...isn’t that sort of a pact? I mean, I see it as a hentai trope all the time. (Have sex with a demon, demon becomes your servant/gives you something in return. I just thought it’d be funny if it happened to Dante out of the blue.)
> 
> Also, NeroV teamwork! I miss it so much! But sadly V doesn’t have his familiars with him and it makes me really sad! Nero protects him tho! Also V issuing commands to Nero and Nero not arguing with them at all? Plus, I had to throw Phantom in there somewhere, because even thought he’s canonically at Red Grave from the official Manga (Visions of V), I don’t think he ever shows up in-game??? Unless my memory is shot as shit.
> 
> Either way, he served as a nice little plotpoint. Now...how will V fight with Nero if he doesn’t have Shadow, Girffon and Nightmare??? HMMMM..
> 
> Find out next chapter!
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06


	6. Vacillant (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V makes progress in realising what the hell is happening and why he has returned. Dante gives and gets a little loving from his precious nephew. NeroV in this chapter too! NSFW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> OOOOF. IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE THIS! 
> 
> Hey all! It’s been TOO LONG! I can’t even remember the last time I even LOOKED at my own fanfiction, let alone touch it. But, June 15th just passed (for me, as I’m writing this, it IS June 15th) and I just...I had SO MANY FEELINGS.
> 
> No. I will not allow V to be lost to time.
> 
> Thus, I write this fic. It’s too tragic. We can’t leave the sons of Sparda without their poetry-spouting broodmother afterall. Who the hell is going to keep Dante and Nero in check whilst they keep Vergil in check, HUH? I refuse to allow V to die. June 15th is this birthday now, nothing can change my mind! We have 11k words this time around! Some parts are left vague on purpose (or accident? I’m not a genius…), but I’ll work them out next chapter...
> 
> Enjoy the fic! Please let out all your “I miss V” feels in the comments if you feel like it! There’s plenty of bonding and stumbling around in this chapter! But I did my best!
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06
> 
> \----

**.**

 

**.**

 

**.**

**\--- (June 22, 1.00 PM)**

 

Dante jerked up in his seat, grunting and frowning. Man, did Vergil have to be so rude? Kicking him out like that was completely uncalled for. It was a nice headspace too.

 

“Seriously?” Dante looked around his space, finding it oddly clean.

 

Huh. He hadn’t noticed, but V did a great job in looking after the office while he was there, especially since he’d only been there a couple days. Dante frowned, spotting the pile of pizza boxes and empty bottles on the floor around him. When the entire office looked like this, it didn’t bother him, but having it so clean and pristine made the mess look out of place.

 

He picked up the pizza boxes and bottles, quickly heading outside and dumping them in the nearest big garbage can he could find.

 

“Go to Red Grave huh?” Dante asked the dead air, surveying his office.

 

So that’s what it looked like to customers coming inside for the first time. It looked really good--classy even, when it was clean.

 

“Idiot.” He spat. “Red Grave isn’t home anymore, Vergil.”

 

And how was he supposed to get there anyway? It wasn’t like Morrison had a job for him there recently. The one job that’d been there, he’d so generously handed to Nero. Kid needed to keep his shop running as well as feed the orphans someho--

 

**_CRACKLE!_ **

 

Suddenly, Dante was standing in the middle of the street, power flaring up from inside of him. In his arms was a frail, delicate form, pale as snow, dressed in his clothes.

 

Everything moved slowly. From the corner of his vision, he could see Nero, flying backwards as if propelled by an unseen force. Above, he saw the barbed tail--a tail he could recall was attached to some form of beast somehow. Wasn’t that...the big-ass spider he’d killed twice now?

 

Dante chuckled.

 

Whoops. Looks like he and V had accidentally entered a demonic contract. Well, being a devil had its interesting moments. Nero was going to be very upset with him. Not that he already wasn’t. Time to get to work, Dante thought, focusing his energy on V and healing his wound.

 

The kid could take care of--Phantom? Yeah, that was its name. 

 

Not that it mattered.

 

**.**

 

**.**

 

**.**

**\--- (June 22, 1.15 PM)**

 

Nero flew into a fury, completely and utterly destroying Phantom. V had even thought that the spider had looked pitiful in the middle of Nero’s massacre. Though V had little thought with regards to the demon’s pain or discomfort. He rather enjoyed watching it writhe and flail, crying out in pain.

 

However, V would have preferred if he were the one inflicting that pain.

 

“Seriously, did he ask you to make some kind of deal? To babysit me or something?” Nero pressed, growing more and more impatient.

 

“...no.” V’s single word reply, coupled with his slightly pinkened ears, held more than a thousand words.

 

However, V was distracted by something else at the moment. Nero was ranting, raving in the middle of the street. And he was a Devil. As Nero continued on his tirade, V continued to take in the sight of Nero’s full Devil form. The wings seemed to be made of pure energy, but he had never seen before. The ridges on Nero’s shoulders served as a sort of perch for the clawed hands that sprouted from where his wings ended.

 

“No. No way.” Nero took in a sharp breath as he realized. “Did he...did you two  _ mate _ ?!”

 

Currently, V found that the most interesting part of Nero’s Devil form was his face. It was almost human. In fact, it was the most human face V had ever seen on a demon. Strangely enough, it had finer features than his more handsome, thicker human face. This face was long, ridged, like a Prince of the Underworld.

 

Or perhaps, even a Princess, V mused to himself with a smile.

 

Nero continued on, already confused thoughts flying into other, more disturbing thoughts. If he had already been questioning the right path in his life (having Kyrie as his live-in lover whilst she was also technically his sister), then he would be seriously considering going to a proper church to repent for his crimes. He’d already had her forgive him for all the weird shit Dante and he got up to just because demon blood was weird and screwed up and--

 

V’s hands moved, driven by pure amusement, caressing the feathery horns that curled above Nero’s head from the back, like...the ears of a rabbit.

 

“U-uh...V?!” Nero stammered, stopping mid-rant.

 

V had not heard Nero’s question. He continued to feel and prod the horns, amused at their texture. They were smooth, but not completely solid like Dante’s horns and armored skin. Feeling upwards towards the ends, V found himself tiptoeing when he accidentally tripped forward.

 

“Oh!” His surprise came from both his own clumsiness, and the realization of Nero’s new stature.

 

Nero held him fast, large arms, thick with veins that glowed with the same blue light as his wings. The boy who was now a Devil, measured a few inches taller than himself in this form, larger and thicker than his human one. V caught himself beginning to lean towards Nero’s face.

 

Nero’s chest heaved, having been embarrassed through the entire time V had been examining his horns. They tingled, now that the man’s slender fingers had left them; the feeling of lost contact distracting him from his earlier tirade.

 

“Curious,” V remarked, smiling. “You do not resemble a Devil in the slightest.”

 

Nero frowned, reverting to his human form. “What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

V merely continued to smile--Nero looked more angelic than he did devilish. How...fitting.

 

But the pale man left Nero with no explanation, instead, turning away from him. “Now that those pests are out of the way…”

 

Nero followed V’s gaze, to the blast remains, where the shadow had been destroyed. V walked over, his limp gone; the wound having been healed completely by Dante. Though it was good V wasn’t hurt anymore, he was definitely going to kick Dante’s ass when he got back.

 

Though he recognized that such an occasion may not happen twice, it was nice to know he was being looked after.

 

V reached the objects left behind in the wake of the explosion and knelt down, a look of grief once again crossing his features.

 

“All this time...for this?” V questioned the dead air, grasping at the deep black sandals that were gingerly waiting for him in the middle of the street; the ones that had carried the soles of his feet for the short time he had been alive. “For a sentimental piece of a man who was barely human?”

 

Nero folded his arms, frowning deep. “Your...sandals?”

 

**_“I believe this one is more use to you than to myself.”_ **

 

Nero’s chin jerked up at the voice. But there was nobody in the street aside from himself and V. Had he...imagined it? Maybe he needed to stop eating junk like Kyrie had asked him to.

 

V shivered as he straightened himself up, clasping the sandals in his hands, as if presenting them to Nero. “His name...is Shadow.”

 

The footwear in his hands suddenly shone maroon, before bursting into black ashes. 

 

“V!” Nero moved to grab V, but stopped short.

 

Slowly, the black ash melded into V’s pale skin, marking him in a tribal pattern that sank deep into his flesh with the marks of a demon. Shadow. V’s mouth dropped agape in shock, frail bones rapidly rising and falling in gasps of surprise.

 

He met Nero’s gaze.

 

“Did you…” Nero trailed off, swallowing down his hope just in case he was wrong.

 

V could feel it. The deep, vindictive darkness that hounded him, hunting him like a wild beast--the wretched memories of having been consumed and corrupted by Mundus...the memories that Shadow had been born of. Memories that could not be slain, as long as they were true.

 

Just as he did, something glinting fell out of them. Something V knew that Vergil should have held memories of. It was a bright, blood-red amulet, or at least, it was half of one. Nero bent down and picked it up, holding it out so that they could both look at it.

 

“This craft...it is of the Underworld.” V observed. “This...was in the portrait. In the house.”

 

“...Dante said he had one too.” Nero exclaimed in realization, recognizing it. “Then this...this is my father’s?”

 

“Where is the other half?” V inquired, looking on the ground around them.

 

A half of a half--was that not exactly what V was? The man smirked cruelly at his own thought.

 

Nero pressed his lips together. “I think...I might have an idea. It’s gotta be with the other one. Now we just need to find the sucker.”

 

Inside the half of the amulet, V could see something squirming, writhing. A terrible, great thing, biding its time. If two halves made a whole, what was it that Shadow had been protecting so desperately? Would he find his way, once more, back to Vergil?

 

...what else could there be for him to do, but to seek the other half-devil out once again? Again, and again, and again...just like Dante, however many times it took.

 

“Is it...real?” Nero asked. “It looks weird.”   
  
There was a transparency to the amulet. As if it was a mere memory--a dream. Clutching his hand around it, it disintegrated. For a moment, Nero and V held their breaths, together, like a matching pair of two fourths--Nero being a fourth devil, and V being a fourth of a person.

 

Then, the dream of an amulet shot rapidly, like a silver bullet, right into V’s chest.

 

V gasped and Nero grabbed him--but the small light was gone. 

 

“What was...did you...keep it?” Nero asked.

 

V placed a hand to his chest. “I am unsure. But I feel strange.”

 

“Let’s...just find the other half.” Nero suggested.

 

There was nothing else to do. They had been called in to take care of demonic sightings at Red Grave after all. It was time to continue.

 

“Hmm…” V held out his cane.

 

In a glorious display that Nero found both nostalgic and a relief to see, black ashes erupted from V’s arm, his skin returning to its milky white, untouched state. Shadow emerged, leaping out with a roar.

 

“WOAH!” Nero yelped as the large cat landed on top of him.

 

Shadow purred, caressing Nero’s face with his own in a show of affection that made V slightly envious.

 

“Now, now…” V scolded lightly.

 

Shadow growled in response, a light, chipper growl, before removing her weight from Nero to turn to V. The great, black panther curled around her long-lost companion’s legs, rubbing herself all over them, threatening to knock V over as well.

 

“There will be plenty of time for that later,” V reminded.

 

Shadow paused, looking up at her dear friend.

 

“Will you help us find him?” V asked gently, as if speaking to a young child.

 

Nero got up, knowing that V was about to confirm the suspicions he’d had from when he’d returned to Red Grave a few days ago.

 

V bit his lip, finding the next few words hard to say, but necessary; if only to confirm to himself exactly what had happened.  “Help us find Griffon.”

 

Shadow bowed, graciously offering her services to V, once again.

 

Although the reunion was sweet, a thick bitterness hung over them both. V was troubled by the confirmation Shadow’s reaction to his request gave them. The flying demon that Nero had been chasing this entire time, had in fact been one of his other familiars. There was a good chance that even Nightmare, as mindless as that one had been, was somewhere out there. And now, they had the amulet that had possessed his body to worry about as well.

 

“Am I responsible for this?” V questioned himself once more.

 

Shadow purred, staying curled around V’s legs and waist, watching as her beloved ally became engrossed in deep thought. Nero could see the trouble brewing on V’s face.

 

Just in time, Nico arrived.

 

The van screeched back around the corner, tumbling a little way from flying over the debris (which wasn’t there before, so she had no idea to expect it), before conveniently landing right in front of Nero and V. Inside, Nico grinned with a thumbs up, masking her panic at the sudden flight.

 

“Whoo! Alright boys, found the hole!” She announced. “Get in, it’s a bit of a drive from here...damn traffic.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

**(June 22, 3:00 PM)**

 

The trip to the portal, aside from the pleasantries of having Shadow returned to them, was otherwise uneventful.

 

Or, it would have seemed so, if one were looking from the outside in. Nico, however, knew better. She watched the two in the back, taking awkward glances at each other when they thought the other was not looking.

 

V sat on the same corner he’d taken up the first time he had entered the van, in the corner, behind Nico’s seat. Little did he know that this only served to allow her to easily track him from the rearview mirror. He’d been staring at the same two pages in his book for the last hour; whether he realized it wasn’t likely.

 

Jeez. Boy needed some help.

  
Nero meanwhile was busy playing with Shadow’s tail. The big, beautiful lady had her long fluffy appendage curling and waving back and forth, playing ‘come catch me’ with the guy sitting just a short distance away from V.

 

“So...you got a gander at Nero’s new look?” Nico spoke up casually, grinning.

 

Nero made a face, shooting her a look. “Nico…”

 

As cool as it was--Nero knew V had an innate fear of devils and demons in particular. If he could avoid it, he’d rather not have shown him. In fact, he’d been itching to ask V about Dante’s Devil Trigger. Had it scared him?

 

...well, V didn’t seem to mind when Dante was carrying him.

 

“GRRAOO!!” Shadow roared in pain when the hand playing with her tail suddenly closed around it in a vice grip.

 

“Nero!” V barked.

 

“Shit!” Nero let go of the girl’s tail, standing up. “Sorry, that was an acciden--”

 

Nico made a sudden brake, debris falling right in front of the van. “Hooaah, there!”

 

“Ugh-!” Nero fell forward.

 

Shadow dashed out of the way, scorned by the earlier snap at her tail.

 

“Ner--!” V failed to finish his sentence as Nero landed atop him, his back pressing into the leather of Nico’s seat.

 

“Sorry, sorry! It was an accident!” Nico apologized.

 

“Gah-!” Nero got onto his knees and hands, lifting himself off of V.

 

V coughed, having been struck in the ribs by Nero’s elbow. Fortunately for him, it was unintentional, lessening the blow from devastating to bone-breaking. V grimaced, gasping as Nero removed his weight off him, holding his side.

 

“V!” Nero cringed in concern when he realized what he had done. 

 

“You two okay back there?!” Nico asked, ducking out of reflex as a large, oppressive force seemed to push everything around them down.

 

**_WOOOSH!_ **

 

A gust of wind came suddenly, smashing into the buildings, the lamp posts, the debris and the van and everything in it.

 

“A-ah…!” V heaved, gasping in pain.

 

“GH-!” Nero braced himself, using his strength to keep himself from falling back down on top of V.

 

The feeling and the sound passed. All three remained still, Nico glancing out the windshield.

 

“It’s the big chickie.” She confirmed.

 

Nero glanced up at her. “Did you see it?”

 

“Nope. But what else could it be?” Nico replied, leaning back and sighing. “Gotta find another way around, road’s blocked now!”

 

Carefully, she maneuvered the van into reverse whilst Nero and V got their bearings. Shadow made her way back to V, pausing some distance away as Nero leaned back on his shins.

 

“Hah...uh…” V’s breathing was labored, and a hand had gone to his side, pressing into his ribs. “I…”

 

“Shit, hold on.” Nero quickly reached forward for the sweater that Dante had given V, the look of agony on V’s face a cause for great concern. “Let me see.”

“A-ah...Nero...it…” V bit his lip, hard enough for his blunt teeth to dig into flesh and draw blood. His side throbbed torturously, sending waves of nausea and pain up and down his body.

 

A large, angry bruise blossomed from V’s side, deep red like blood, splotched with shades of blue and purple. Nero felt his heart leap into his throat. He’d hurt him. 

 

_ He had  _ **_hurt_ ** _ V. _

 

“Hold on, I’ll--...” Nero scrambled, looking at his own hands and wondering just how he could do what Dante had just done.

 

“No...I shall...be…” V inhaled.

 

Shadow approached, burning into ashes and joining V’s flesh once more. The color of V’s bruise faded, receding as the dark magic of his pact with Shadow healed him.

 

“Haa...ah...aah…” V arched, brows furrowing as he began to sweat, the pain easing slowly.

 

Nero swallowed, eyes on V’s face, as the feeling of relief and pain mixed together in a stunning expression. The cut in V’s lip closed, and it wasn’t until V’s tongue swept over the now closing wound did Nero realize he was staring at V’s lips.

 

“Hahh…” V smirked, huffing in pride--at least he could manage this.

 

Nero looked away, finding himself chewing at his own lip, reaching down with his right hand to offer V some help up. V glanced at the hand--the fascinating hand that grew back even after it had been stolen--and he took it.

 

Nero’s hand was warm as it pulled him up onto his feet. “Thank you, Nero.”

 

Pink flushed into Nero’s ears as he heard V say that. The heavy air between them when they weren’t in the heat of a fight was annoying.

 

...what did V think of him, now?

 

“You’d be fine without me,” Nero assured, turning to look V in the eye, then taking a half step back when he remembered how much taller V was compared to him and that he had to look up to meet his gaze.

 

“Do you really think that to be true?” V asked, chuckling before patting his side.

 

Nero frowned as he watched--it was his fault after all. Shit, he’d never even hurt Kyrie like that before--how could’ve he been so careless? What if he did end up hurting Kyrie?

 

“Nero.”

 

V’s voice snapped Nero out of his mental tirade of worries. He looked up to find the man still standing there, inches from his face. They shifted their weight from one foot to another as Nico drove, taking a detour to get around the inconvenient debris that had cut off their original route. It was almost like a dance, shifting left and right in sync with each other, their gazes fixed together, piercing blue meeting deep green.

 

Nero turned his head away first, revealing the pink of his ears once more. V returned to his seat.

 

Of course, they didn’t kiss, Nico thought, rolling her eyes. “We’re here!”

 

“Oof!” Nero stumbled as he nearly fell over, growling--he wouldn’t normally lose his balance so easily, but he was distracted. “Nico!”

 

Nico laughed, sticking a cancer stick between her lips and lighting it up.

 

V climbed out of the van first, sighing as he felt the cool breeze that came--a different sort of air from the one that had just passed over them. He glanced up at the hellgate, finding it to be...vexing to look at. An eyesore.

 

Nero joined V, gazing up at the tall, black structure.

 

It haunted them both--in Nero’s memories of almost losing Kyrie, in V’s memories of...no, not his, Vergil’s. The thought of the distinct separation he felt from such memories troubled him once more.

 

“Looks like our friend is none too careful regarding his charge,” V said, pointing at the gate with his cane.

 

There were many inconsistencies now, V realized, the more he thought. How had he returned with his cane? How had Shadow taken the form of the wretched footwear he’d stolen from that boorish man?

 

...how was it that Griffon had found a portal to hell? A very small, almost insignificant one? But what would have been the purpose for such a thing?

 

“It is as though the regrets left behind that were once thought slain have refused to die.” V considered as he pointed towards the small gate. “Such a small thing--barely existing.”

 

“Doesn’t matter how or why. We’re just here to destroy it,” Nero said, walking towards it.

 

The hellgate was barely an inch taller than the buildings around it--like V had said, it was barely worthy of being called a gate. It was more like a tear, a simple hole between worlds. So destroy it the child did, as V watched. Granted, a bit of work was to be done when those using the gate were none too happy about it being threatened and desecrated. Shadow made quick work of the measly scum that were foolish enough to take the bait of such a tiny hellgate.

 

It was after the dust had settled that V recognized the street. He stared past Shadow as she tore apart a pyrobat before it could breathe its flames onto her charge. Past her, he saw the broken door frame to the shop, a very familiar shop. The bloodstains on the floor, the doorway, and the large armchair were telling. 

 

“That sad shadow of a lesser gate may have served as a portal to the Underworld.” V clarified.

 

“Bait?” Nero asked, landing back on his feet a short distance behind V. “Why here?”

 

“...this…” V trailed off.

 

_ This was where he found his cane. _

 

V stepped towards the shop, the nostalgia welling up in his chest and holding his thoughts fast. He barely heard Nero close the distance between them to peer curiously into the shop for himself.

 

‘It’s not the cane.’

 

V closed his eyes, remembering Griffon’s words.

 

‘It’s you.’

 

“...It is…” V continued, “...It is I.”

 

“Is this a trap?” Nero asked. “Why you?”

 

“No...I feel it is something else,” V explained, searching his thoughts as he entered the shop, standing right over the sad smudge on the floor where the Empusa he had stabbed more than a year ago had been.

 

The memory of his first kill made him smile. This place was just an old building, stained with old blood. It was nothing but an empty, silent box filled with forgotten things. And yet, it was here that he, through memory, came to steel himself.

 

“This was where I had first learned to kill,” V told Nero, turning around in place, tapping his cane into the ground.

 

The silver tip pierced through the wood, in a hole that fit all too perfectly.

 

Nero stared at V, suspicion creeping into his eyes--it was potent enough for V to see it. The man smiled wryly.

 

“Someone’s playing a game with you, then?” Nero raised a brow, frowning. “After all this time….”

 

“It has been but a year,” V said, sounding a little too chipper.

 

Nero blinked, staring at him. V was obviously enjoying this. The look on his face--arrogant, confident, but brooding with thought and wit...this was how he’d first met V, Nero thought. 

 

V looked down at his cane with a cocky smirk. Nero took a step forward.

 

_ It should not that pained, pleading voice that begged for help _ , Nero contemplated.

 

V’s gaze flickered up from his cane, watching as the boy drew closer. Nero took another step.

 

_ Nor should it be that confused, lost gaze that tore at the heart, _ Nero decided.

 

V watched, expecting Nero to speak, but a furrow in his brow began to form when the boy said nothing. Nero took the last step, closing the distance between them.

 

_ This was how V should always look,  _ Nero determined _. _

 

V’s lips were soft--softer than Nero remembered when he’d first pressed his own against them. The way V’s eyes widened, and how his shoulders rose with the slow, surprised breath he took when Nero slid his hand around his slender, swan-like neck.

 

**_WHACK_ ** **!**

 

V’s cane made contact with solid, feathery horn and Nero gasped, stepping back.

 

He was towering over V, the bright red glow of his horns, and the blue of his veins and chest surprised him. When had he triggered? He pushed the raging emotions inside him down, his leathery and scaly skin returning to supple human flesh.

 

V licked his lips before he could stop himself--a devil’s kiss was always sweet. But this sort of situation between them...between himself and  _ Nero _ was…

 

“V, w-wait!” Nero stumbled over his own words as V quickly left the shop.

 

_...dangerous. _

 

He crossed the doorframe for the third time in his short life, and the first time since his rebirth...only this time, Nero followed after him, taking the first steps back out into the open world with a hand grasping at his wrist.

 

The metaphor wasn’t lost to V, who turned to face Nero and reprimand him.

 

...but he could not.

 

“V, I missed you so much,” Nero stated; the straightforward manner came as a surprise even to himself.

 

Nero’s words caught V unaware. What  _ could _ V say in return? 

 

“Nero…”

 

V made for the van, but Nero stopped him, by holding his wrist firm in his grasp. V winced at the grip, but not because it was painfully tight, but because it was relentless.

 

He could tell what Nero was thinking; what he was feeling, through the pressure around his own hand from the boy’s.

 

“Nero,” V repeated a little more firmly, only to be coerced into stumbling back when Nero used the arm he had a hold of to corner V against the alley wall.

 

A familiar alley, V noted.

 

“V,” Nero said back at the other man, leering at him hard with a gaze as sharp as a devil’s fang.

 

In fact, V could see a few, mischievous little devil’s fangs peeking out from between Nero’s lips. Nero’s breath came short, and his eyes flickered between the gorgeous blue and the brilliant gold of his human and devil forms.

 

V caught himself wondering which set he found more stunning.

 

Dante peered over the top of the building, spying on V and Nero below. The cute, fluffy-horned kid had the tall drink of poetic and sexy cornered against the building. 

 

He huffed--what a boring scene. 

 

He was hoping for something a little more  _ flashy _ . Still, maybe he shouldn’t have expected much from a kid that grew up on Fortuna. Dante did try to raise him, but he guessed the knightly attitude was going to be somewhere in the kid forever.

 

“I am...part of your  _ father _ , Nero,” V emphasized, desperation rising in his eyes. “We must  _ not… _ ”

 

Now that, was a stupid kind of reasoning, Dante thought. He sighed, scratching the back of his head. Honestly, V was as stupid as Vergil sometimes. Well, he was part of Vergil so that made sense. 

 

“Alright, big brother...what kind of game are you playing this time?” Dante asked himself--but then, the answer clicked in his head. “Oh…”

 

...Vergil wasn’t playing with  _ Dante _ this time around. Vergil wanted to play games with  _ Nero _ . His  _ son _ .

 

Vergil wanted some quality time with his son. But first...Vergil wanted to give Nero a present.

 

“Ahh…” Dante chuckled. “Always gotta make things so damn complicated, Vergil.”

 

He supposed that if this was going to be a game, Dante should have the courtesy to take sides. Alright. He’ll pick a side. Let’s see...the fine-ass edgelord, or the cute-ass jockboy nephew?

 

_ Damn _ .

 

That was a hard choice.

 

Dante watched as V’s fingers slid up, gently making their way to the middle of Nero’s chest, palm pressing as hard as it could. 

 

The frail body would normally not be able to do much, but even V’s inhuman strength, born from his origins was not enough to push Nero away. Still, Nero could feel the pressure from those thin fingers. This trip, this revisit to Redgrave, it was truly bringing him back.

 

No, it was more than that, Nero pondered. Something else was happening to V. “V...after Malphas…”

 

V paused, dreading what Nero was going to say next. But despite his concern, Nero did not speak any further. Instead, he felt those soft, slightly cut lips once more against his own. Electric needles of joy ran through V’s body, sparking from his lips all the way to the tips of his toes and fingers. The kiss felt fulfilling, soothing the tension and awkwardness that had subtly, sneakily grew between them all this time.

 

V gasped, the moment that Nero spoke of suddenly bubbling up to the forefront of his memory.

 

Yes.  _ His _ memory. Not  _ Vergil’s _ . 

 

_ His own. _

 

...after Malphas...

 

The memories V experienced as a human would  _ never _ be Vergil’s. They were entirely his and his  _ alone _ .

 

Memories that included moments such as these with  _ Nero _ .

 

As Nero slowly withdrew from V, he held the man’s gaze, not needing words to express  _ what _ he wanted,  _ who _ he wanted...and  _ how _ . It was V’s turn to gasp in short, repressed breaths, the emotion bubbling up in his chest, in that dreaded, excited heart between his thin ribs which responded to Nero’s advances all too eagerly.

 

“Huh, would you look at that,” Dante commented, chuckling to himself, but he wondered if things would turn out as peachy as it did between himself and Vergil.

 

Ah, so  _ that _ had been the kind of game Vergil had been playing, Dante realized. 

 

...all right. 

 

Sorry V, Dante mentally apologized. He was going to pick Nero’s side after all. How could he not, when his precious little nephew was obviously looking at V with those damn, stupid, big puppy eyes?

 

Now, just to give the kid a little push. Besides...there was a little suspicion that’d been itching at the back of his head since that little outburst he’d had in his office. If V had managed to calm _him_ down...and not to mention, _boss_ _him_ around during _sex_...and...being able to tell _exactly_ where V was _at any given time_ made him even more suspicious.

 

Maybe there was something about the devil in his blood, Dante considered...not that it mattered. He quickly turned, deciding to make his grand reappearance. 

 

Meanwhile, V was struggling with himself, staring at Nero’s lips, chapped and rough and burning with devilish desire. It was the same feeling that had ensnared him when it had been Dante...that dreaded bond of Sparda.

 

V enjoyed the fact that Nero wanted him this way.

 

V bit his own lip--no. He could not. He could not corrupt Nero in that same, depressing, traumatized way Dante had to endure all these years. This was his punishment for causing all of this...for existing to begin with, V told himself. He needed to walk away, to do what was best for both of them. Nero had a  _ life _ . Nero had  _ Kyrie _ .  _ Nero had everyone else in his full life to look after. _

 

V would not destroy that.

 

Nero swallowed at the expression on V’s face. Did he not feel the same? Why? Why did Dante get to hold him? Why was it Dante? When did Dante and V even--

 

“Shit!” Nero turned away quickly, releasing his hold on V, striking the alley wall with his hand and causing the brick to shatter.

 

V narrowed his gaze as the bright blue light seared into his eyes. But he did not flinch from Nero’s sudden outburst.

 

Nero bit his lip, his right arm glowing bright blue, a ghostly image of his demonic hand encasing his human one. He wanted to hold V. He wanted to mark him. He wanted to own him the way he could smell Dante had owned him. Why couldn’t it be him? Why did it have to be Dante?!

 

V raised his hand to place it on Nero’s shoulder, stiffening when Nero’s head snapped back to glare at him with hungry, golden eyes.

 

“Nero…” V whispered, not afraid, but concerned.

 

It was his fault that Nero was like this. It was his mistake.

 

“Don’t,” Nero growled assertively, his fangs growing, the scales on his cheeks forming.

 

No. He couldn’t do what Dante did. He couldn’t be so selfish, Nero scolded himself, turning away from V and looking away. 

 

Nero took a shaky step, not daring to glance back at the beautiful, delicate man he’d come to admire in too many ways, lest he give in and do something unforgivable. “I’ll be fine. Get back to the van. I just need a few…-”

 

V watched him go, guilt overtaking the burning sensation in his chest he knew was a sinful lust for a devil’s touch. If he went after the boy, it would only cause him more pain…

 

“I’ll be fine…!” Nero called back, forcing V to do as he was told and returned to the van.

 

Relief flooded his senses for a moment, when he heard the van door open and close. At least with Nico, V would be safe. Shadow was here too now. The girls could keep him safe and vice versa...even from him.

 

He’d find something, or a few things to kill and settle down on his own, Nero resolutely decided. He couldn’t hurt V. He wouldn’t.

 

He couldn’t…

 

He wouldn’t…

 

**_He couldn’t…_ **

 

**_He wouldn’t!_ **

  
  
  
  


.

 

.

 

.

**(June 22, 3:20 PM)**

  
  


“Not looking so hot, kid.” Dante’s singsong voice cut through the fog in Nero’s mind.

 

Dante flicked his hand, and a bright, crimson rose flew towards Nero. The younger devil brutally snapped at it, fangs utterly destroying the delicate flower. Dante frowned playfully.

  
“Ahh, your dad’s the same,” Dante complained in a joking manner. “It took me a few tries to make those you know? A real labor of  _ love _ .”

 

“DANTE!” Nero roared, his blue wings spreading open in a threat. He launched himself at Dante, taloned hands and feet landing square on his uncle’s chest.

 

“Oof…!” Dante grunted as he allowed himself to tumble to the ground--must be the kid’s first devil-rut. He understood. 

 

It was impossible to resist that sort of urge--well, as far as Dante knew. But what Dante was sure of, was the cause of Nero’s sudden loss of control.

 

“Leave me alone!” Nero demanded, his voice echoing through the street.

 

Dante winced as talons dug into his shoulders painfully, drawing blood that bubbled up from the holes in his already battered red leather coat. He secretly thanked himself for putting off getting a replacement for this one. 

 

In a burst of speed that Nero had forgotten Dante was capable of, he’d wrapped himself around Nero’s waist with his legs. Wide-eyed, Nero found himself pressed into the ground instead, the weight of Dante’s ass on his hips.

 

“Easy, kid.” Dante cooed.

 

Nero bared his fangs, ready to retaliate when he felt Dante’s lips on his, turning the growl into a muffled snarl. 

 

The devilishly human tongue pressed against his own, forcing it back, the taste of copper filling both their mouths. Nero moved to pull away out of surprise, when Dante grabbed his face with a hand and pressed in further.

 

After a moment, Dante himself withdrew, swishing his sliced tongue across his lips to show off where he’d cut it on Nero’s fangs. Nero felt his groin burn, a combination of his earlier desire, and the familiar sensation of Dante’s touch that his body had learned to crave over the years making it difficult for him to form thoughts.

 

“That’s it, kid…” Dante purred where he sat on top of Nero, grinding his ass into Nero’s hips. “Just like the first time we met...well, the other way around.”

 

The church. Their first fight. Dante’s fascination with him had started that very moment their bodies connected in that first, brutal exchange. Nero cursed himself for using his legs in such a maneuver. Retrospect could be such a bitch.

 

“Things are different now, aren’t they?” Dante asked, a look of mature concern on his face, one that Nero didn’t recognize.

 

Since when was Dante ‘mature’?

 

Dante ground down, messing up Nero’s thoughts even further as he fought the new urge rising inside of him. The feeling of V’s lips still tore through the tingling of Dante’s lips against his, his urges mixing into an indescribable feeling.

 

The man’s smirking lips were suddenly brushing against Nero’s own, in a cruel tease. “V’s pretty tasty isn’t he?”

 

**_BLAAMMM!_ **

 

A demonic blast of power rocked the very foundation of the street.

 

Dante saw stars, his head colliding against stone, cement, and tile. The flash of blue energy barely registered in his vision as the impact sent him flying into the nearest available structure. On the marble tiled floor, now littered with debris, Dante slowly propped himself up on his forearms with a tired grin.

 

The kid hit hard--Dante liked that. He really was Vergil’s kid after all.

 

“He’s  _ MINE _ !” Nero declared with a mighty roar, his voice inhuman, his thoughts a raging mess. 

 

Dante whistled, licking his lips and waiting for Nero to come closer. He really would have to play the part this time around. Sure, this kind of tactic was underhanded--but if Vergil was making moves in their little game, he’d have to step things up a notch in his own way as well. It’s not like Vergil had to know…

 

“Is he? I don’t recall him saying that.” Dante taunted, eyeing Nero through the massive hole in the wall they’d both just made.

 

If he could just cradle the boy for a few minutes, he’d be fine. Nero always felt better after sex, despite his denial and protests.

 

Nero flared in blue light, launching himself onto Dante.

 

“AGH-!” Dante winced, body jerking in pain as part of his collarbone caved in.

 

Nero’s fangs sank into Dante’s shoulder, blind fury fueling his mix of anger, lust, frustration, and desire. Dante could feel it all, seeping into his blood from where Nero dug into him. The older devil hunter hissed, hands going to Nero’s horns and shoulder.

 

“Hrrrghh!” Nero simply dug in deeper, talons threatening to rip into Dante’s chest and stomach.

 

The kid was beyond words at this point, Dante judged. It wasn’t surprising. He was young, and unlike Dante himself, he had plenty of exposure to someone with the blood of Sparda running around in his life--even more so now that V and or Vergil had both returned.

 

Even then, Dante could see what Nero was thinking...

 

Mine.

 

Mine.

 

_ Mine. _

 

How  **dare** you.

 

 _How_ **_DARE_** YOU!

 

If demons were possessive, devils were even more so. Dante had laid hands on V first, and that, might as well have been the greatest cardinal sin in Nero’s eyes.  _ Cute _ .

 

“HRRRGHH…” Nero seethed, breathing burning breath into Dante’s face, jagged fangs dripping with blood.

 

Well, Dante didn’t think he’d be the one being pressed into some irrelevant surface this time around. But looking at things as they were, the kid wasn’t going to get off of him anytime soon.

 

**_WHAM!_ **

 

Still, that didn’t mean he had to make things easy for Nero. With a kick, Dante sent his nephew flying off of him, propelled by the sheer force of his foot against the kid’s chest.

 

Nero would hate that.

 

_ WOOSH! _

 

Just as quickly as Dante had kicked him, Nero unfurled his wings, catching himself mid-air. He snarled, shaking his head from the impact, before letting out a threatening roar--primal, void of reasoning.

 

_ Dante had no right to speak of his feelings like that, _ Nero raged, though the emotion was but one of many that Nero had become lost in. He saw red, the world bathed in the blood-like hue, and casually sitting there, without a care in the world, was a man with an annoying smirk and a coat that burned even redder than the world around him. He hated this. He hated it all. 

 

This was THAT MAN’S  **FAULT** .

 

“Barely a human thought in that head right now, huh?” Dante asked, getting up. “Happens to the best of us.”

 

Though, Dante would admit that Nero had done well to stop himself after just one bite; things could’ve gotten much worse. So there was at least a tiny bit of self-control there. Time to get rid of it.

 

“RRRGHHH!” Nero flew upward, as high as he could go, touching the top of the elaborate chamber, before launching himself off the ceiling at Dante.

 

Like a bullet, Nero fired himself from his perch, rocketing in a straight line, bathed in blue flames of fury.

 

The legendary devil hunter cracked his neck as Nero sped closer, barely a millisecond between them, before he made his move. “Watched you use this--”

 

**_SLAM_ ** !

 

At the last breath of a moment, Dante leaned back, limboing under Nero, who would’ve shot directly past him, if Dante hadn’t raised his arms to lock around Nero’s waist. He pulled down with all the force he could muster as he bent backwards, sending Nero into the floor in a suplex.

 

“GAH-!” Nero shrieked in anger more than pain at being caught by his own trick.

 

“--on your old man!” Dante finished his sentence in the second following.

 

There were two things that devils would like more than anything when they were in this state--a fight, or a fuck. Dante couldn’t quite figure out which one Nero was in right now, though, the kid hadn’t drawn his sword...yet.

 

Leaping away, Dante clapped his hands together and whistled. “Come on, boy! Over here! Let’s go!”

 

Nero shook off the tiles that stuck to his hair and horns, snarling at Dante. In a mimic of his father’s own skill--one that Dante had only recently learned to perform, a ghostly copy of Nero appeared before him. Given no room to react, Dante grunted as talons closed around his neck.

 

Then, Nero was behind him, retracting a fist as his wing did the same.

 

**_BAM!_ **

 

Nero gasped, watching the world around him pulsating as he unleashed his pent up rage. For a moment, his body refused to respond. He slowed, the red turning black, darker than the night itself.

 

He saw his father, facing him, smiling, falling away from him into an abyss of terror, his outstretched hand once again human. But it was not his arm--the red coat and the battered fingers were too old to be his own. Reaching--reaching for Vergil.

 

For a moment, Dante’s breath was his own...and his was Dante’s.

 

“Unmph-!” Dante landed with a grunt, panting hard.

 

His vision spun, the world around him turning bright blue--the sky, the shattered glass. A memory...a memory of a memory. He watched the dark, crumbling figure limp away from him--the lingering touch of the soft, decaying flesh on his shoulders. Dante knew what this was already--he saw the last thing Nero could remember of V.

 

A moment Dante knew played over and over and over again in Nero’s mind--the moment V’s cane connected with Urizen’s heart.

 

Just as for himself, he could not forget the moment Vergil had saved him--the moment his older brother had fallen into hell.

 

_ They were both hurting, still, weren’t they? _

 

Dante jolted in surprise, rudely yanked out of the vision, when he suddenly felt a hot, hard pressure against his asscheeks, the temperature of the erect demon cock threatening to burn away the fabric. 

 

Nero was on top of him, pinning him down with his blue wings.

 

The golden eyes shone bright, but looked distracted--driven by instinct more than mind, by emotion more than reason. The kid was lost in it bad, Dante realized.

 

With another bite, Nero tore another cry from Dante’s throat in a display of dominance. If you were to take what a devil had deemed was theirs, then they would punish you accordingly--it was something all devils knew deep in their gut and in their bones, be they half, whole, or in this case--even a quarter. Dante coughed, blood seeping through the hole in the side of his throat and up to his mouth.

 

_ “RRRGH!” _

 

With a jerk, Dante found his lower back off the floor, and his hands pinned above his head with a single glowing wing. 

 

...well, alright then.

 

“That’s it, babe…” Dante encouraged, breathing growing labored as he felt Nero grind against him.

 

The devil above Dante snarled, the sound softening as the horned head lowered itself down, until it was a subtle threat against Dante’s ear. 

 

“Hold still and you won’t-kagh--...bite me...anymore?” Dante grinned through bloody teeth.

 

Dante was too nice, really, he thought in a form of self-praise.

 

The body that Nero had lost control of hissed in anger, another threat. Dante smirked in response, glancing down, he took a moment to admire the deep blue, almost-crystal-colored form of Nero’s devil dick.

 

Oh.

 

_ Wow. _

 

It hummed and pulsated, measuring a little over twice as large as when Nero was human. On its sides were ridges, feathering and soft, ribbing the edges of the otherwise smooth penis. Dante licked his lips again--that looked a little painful to take in dry. He jerked his hips up, and Nero uttered a strangled hiss crossed with a snarl.

 

_ “HARGHH!”  _

 

“Oh, that’s right. Devil-brain.” Dante chuckled, panting lightly through his small bucks against Nero’s grinding. “If you mark me...then technically, you mark the devil that owns V yeah?”

 

Sweet Sparda, Dante hated such complicated devil-logic. Not that he didn’t know or understand it; he wasn’t one to care. 

 

Despite Nero’s real thoughts being absent, the devil that held Dante down seemed to understand his words enough to confirm it with a nip to the middle of his chest, ripping at his shirt.

 

“Hey-...mphh-?!” Dante was cut off by one of Nero’s taloned hands pressing into his mouth, scraping his cheek accidentally and drawing a thin line of blood.

 

Damn. Nero could be almost as rough as Vergil on a bad day. Good to know.

 

A nip caught the rest of Dante’s shirt in Nero’s fangs and with a jerk, it came apart, revealing the hair-studded chest beneath. The skin was peppered with a handful of kisses, small, delicate bites that made Nero pause and hiss.

 

V’s lips had been here. V had left marks on Dante.

 

They had  _ mated _ .   
  


“Mphoh-!” Dante’s laugh was muffled by the mighty grip at his jaw, when a black tongue began dragging itself up his chest.

 

It was silky, but dotted with small, almost-sharp bumps, like teeth. Shit. Did Nero get that tongue from Vergil? Vergil’s tongue had teeth.

 

The tongue scraped along, slicing a few hairs along with the skin, turning the pale color a slight pink. The sensation of his own flesh being torn and tickled at the same time caused Dante to tighten in his own pants. Nero was always all fire, all stubbornness, and always rearing to go...in more ways than one.

 

And Dante would let Nero enjoy his little fit.

 

With each lick, Nero travelled lower and lower on Dante’s torso, scraping and nipping, and even puncturing a little with his fangs. With each replacement and addition of V’s marks on him, Dante could feel the energy seeping in through the wounds he had received, pumping through his veins.

 

His cock twitched. Once. Twice. Then again, and again, before he found himself squirming in Nero’s grip. Shit--Vergil was never this slow. It was torture!

 

Dante bit the hand at his mouth, making Nero’s head snap up to glare at him. Dante dug in deeper, teasing his own demonic fangs, enough to feel the leathery and spiky skin threaten to give. Nero removed his hand with a grimaced growl.

 

“You gonna keep stalling?!” Dante challenged impatiently--he liked to pamper and spoil while he was the one doing the fucking but he’d rather get to the main course quickly in this position. “OOMPH--!”

  
Dante also regretted his decision, with claws suddenly digging into his asscheeks, surprising him and making him yowl in a rather embarrassing way.

 

Okay. Nero was going to pay for getting spoiled like this, even if Dante was letting him.

 

“Hah-!” Dante bit his own lip in the middle of being roughly thrown onto his knees, a wing-hand pressing his face into the floor.

 

Even with the impact, Nero’s demonic charm made it so that where his body had been injured turned into pleasure-spots, the pressure from being dug into the floor, shooting right into his groin. Dante hissed, his own demonic undertone slipping forward for a moment, his cock having already completely soiled his stylish leather pants.

 

Groaning, Dante realized the cut on his lip was also throbbing in a painfully sweet way.

 

With a tear, his pants came apart at the stitches that held the two legs together at his crotch. Dante felt the cold rush of air, followed by an extreme heat that could only come from the fiery breath of a devil.

 

_ Holy shit Vergil, your son is- _ \- was the first, and only thing Dante could think when the fiery breath burned into his ass; a thought he never got to complete.

 

“HAH-...” Dante grinned, the ribbed tongue making its way inside of him.

 

He could feel it split him open a little as it violated his unprepared entrance; just the way he liked it. Dante finally shut up, wriggling his hips when Nero’s tongue made contact with his prostate, a place he knew were both his and Vergil’s were, just behind the balls, close enough to make one go mad with too much prodding. The thought had his insides burn hotter.

 

And prod Nero did.

 

“Ff-..nmph...yeah…” Dante groaned with each thrust, urging Nero to do more. “There..kid…”

 

_ Shlick. _

 

Nero, completely lost in the tight heat, was curiously fumbling around inside the man he’d earlier been ripping into with his fangs. He found the heat inviting; a sensation that not only his devil-form found unfamiliar but Nero himself had never explored Dante this way.

 

_ Shlick. Shlick. _

 

With a flick of the tongue, fangs and tongue pressed into his cheeks and teased at his hole, the sensation sending flames of need through Dante’s already charmed body. Nero thrust his tongue in, withdrawing, then pushing forward, again and again, faster and faster, listening to the sounds his prey uttered with each touch of tongue against prostate.

 

“Fuck...fuck…” Dante began chanting, drool and blood puddling on the floor where his face was pressed in. “Uuuh…”

 

The tongue slowly slid out, and only then did Dante appreciate its length. Glancing back, he saw the thick, black thing, covered in blood and what he assumed was thick, charm-laced saliva, snaking out of him. If Nero had been more aware, that thing could have slipped in even  _ deeper _ ...

 

But there was little time to fantasize over that.

 

A new fire, hard and throbbing, prodded at his ass and Dante knew it had to be the head of Nero’s devil cock. Without warning, Nero thrust inside.

 

_ SLAP! _

 

He welcomed it, the pain and the masochistic pleasure that surged forward from the sudden intrusion. 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

Dante held Nero as Nero held him, forcing their bodies even closer together; using his legs to pull Nero’s hips into his own.

 

“Gh!” he grunted, feeling the bulbous cockhead push into him roughly, before the motion was stopped.

 

Still too tight--only the head of Nero’s cock made it inside. It pulsated, twitching up and down as Nero desperately, amateurly tried to force his cock in further. Dante pushed back, wanting the burning sensation further inside of him, stretching forcefully against his insides.

 

Nero uttered small grunts that sounded like little roars, snapping his hips back, before surging forward.

 

With a wet pop, he sank a couple inches further inside.

 

“AH-...” Dante sighed in satisfaction.

 

He bucked back onto the invading girth, Nero’s thick spit and his own blood easing the tightness apart. 

 

**_Shliiiiiick._ **

 

Dante braced himself against the floor, using his knees to aid Nero in pushing the large dick deeper, deeper inside. Finally, Dante felt his insides cave at the pressure.

 

_ SMACK! _ !

 

A soft slap of powerful, leathery hips smashed into Dante’s ass, enough to rattle his bones.

 

Dante felt his stomach jerk forward, tugging at his ribs for a moment in a wave of impact from inside of him. Such pain--!

 

“NGGH--...” Dante shuddered, his orgasm coming unexpectedly fast.

 

White hot splattered onto the already ruined tiled floor, tainting the marble another shade.

 

Nero huffed, growling at the shuddering and tightening of Dante around him, having just fully entered. In his absent-minded state, Nero frenzied into Dante, thrusting hard and fast. “RGH! RGH! URGH!”

 

“Gh-ugh!” Dante arched, sheer shock throwing off Nero’s hands and wings from holding him down.

 

Smack! Smack! SMACK!

 

Nero kept thrusting, not having enough mind to care about the blood that lubricated the tenderness of Dante’s insides as he fucked him into submission. 

 

_ SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! _

 

“Ugh..ah..uhh!” Dante took it, and he let Nero have him the way he needed him to be. 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

At least, that’s the excuse he gave himself, with his body shivering in pleasure at every thrust. 

 

_ SMACK! SMACK! _

 

Nero leaned forward, feeling everything from the agonized clench of Dante’s violated asshole to the pounding of his heart. The sensations encased him completely.

 

_ SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! _

 

More! Nero needed more! 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

He was going to devour this man! 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

Mark him! 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

Make him his! 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

Make him understand never to cross him again! 

 

_ SMACK! _

 

**_Own him! OWN EVERYTHING HE HAD--_ **

 

Each ram into Dante’s insides sent a little more cum out of the tip of his dick. Like clockwork, every slam of Nero’s hips caused a mini-orgasm, ripping grunts and muffled cries from the proud man under him.

 

_ SMACK!--”GHA-!”--SMACK!--”FFH--!”--SMACK!--“UUH!” _

 

Dante’s head spun, the tortorous continued fucking bringing him back along, to full hardness as each brutal thrust made him see white. 

 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

 

It was a different kind of awful,--SMACK!--cumming and cumming,--SMACK!--and yet only getting more and more turned on.--SMACK!--He needed to touch himself, to ease his twitching, abused cock that had yet to receive attention--he’d need to teach Nero a few things about this too….

 

**SMACK** !

 

“ _ UURGH _ !” Dante howled, the front of his lower stomach stinging, his arms suddenly yanked back, body forced to arch into Nero’s as the cock inside him threatened to tear his insides.

 

_ “RAAAAAH-!” _

 

A gush of molten warmth filled him, and Dante found his lips curling back into a perverted, satisfied grin. His body wracked with orgasmic pleasure, again and again and again as Nero filled him, jerking his hips in small thrusts as if to force his devilish seed as deep as possible.

 

Dante reached down to stroke his own cock in small jerks, in time with Nero’s deep grinding.

 

Finally, his own erection was sated--for now.

 

A few moments were allowed to pass, before Dante tilted his head forward, and jerked it back.

 

**CRACK!**

 

Nero grunted in surprise, his jaws snapping shut as Dante’s head made contact with his chin, sending him tumbling onto his ass. Dante fell with him, gingerly keeping himself seated on the cock inside him. The pressure inside him eased, Dante savoring the feeling of Nero returning to his human form, whilst still buried within him, along with all the seed he’d just been pumped full of.

 

“Hah...ah…” The blue glow was gone, the talons having long vanished as well, Dante noted, glancing down at the kid between his spread thighs. “Haa...made...your point…?”

 

Nero grit his teeth, horror filling him when he saw himself shoved up inside Dante--his fucking uncle!--and was...was that...white stuff...oh Savior no…

 

**_No!_ **

 

Nero grit his teeth, tears having already begun to make rivers down his face as he glared at Dante. “...Dante…”

 

The boy’s body shook, the realization of what he’d just done slowly dawning on him. He looked up at Dante--his  _ uncle-- _ bleeding from a deep bite into his shoulder, grinning down at him even whilst his thighs were sat apart by on his hips. He swallowed, jaw dropping open, not knowing what to say or do. 

 

“Easy…” Dante crooned at Nero keeping him beneath his own weight.

 

Nero flailed. “D-Dante?! Get off! Please, you--you’re bleeding from!”

 

A ball of ice formed in Nero’s gut when he saw the crimson color trickling out of Dante along with the thick, ivory, gloppy liquid.

 

“Finished already?” Dante grinned, removing himself from Nero’s cock.

 

Nero spluttered, “W-wait! I...I didn’t mea--”

 

Dante muffled Nero’s apology with a kiss, nipping his nephew’s bottom lip playfully. “That was fun.”

 

Dante took in the sight for a moment, Nero--confused, worried, shocked, spread out beneath him, heaving from his intense orgasm. Ahh, he really did miss this kid. He reached down humming in pleasure as he rubbed his stomach, now full and searing hot.

 

“Nice,” Dante complimented. “I needed that. You know how tiring it is to fly all the way across the country?”

 

Pop!

 

Nero shut his eyes, feeling himself slide out of his own uncle was embarrassing enough. He didn’t need to see all of... _ that _ ...come out of Dante as well.

 

Dante felt his insides pulsating, his and Nero’s shared heritage fueling his heartbeat, soothing the wounds he’d gotten as they closed, without a trace left behind.  _ Wow _ . He should be the one on the receiving end more often.

 

“...mhh…” Nero swallowed--this was all too much. One minute he was kissing V, and the next thing he really remembered, was...being inside Dante.

 

“That the best you got?” Dante raised a questioning brow, “One round and you’re all devil-triggered-out?”

 

“This isn’t--...” Nero looked away--it wasn’t supposed to be like this. “Did I really--...”

 

“You get used to it.” Dante shrugged. “Once your devil’s urges get satisfied, you should be fine. It’s just a little annoying from time to time when you don’t have any help...or anything to kill.”

 

Nero’s head snapped up to look at his uncle, who was now lifting him off the floor with ease, maneuvering him to sit on his lap, reversing their previous positions. Nero found himself pressing his hands into Dante’s chest, guilt finally winning out in his mess of emotions.

 

The fact that he had forced himself onto Dante was bad enough.

 

The fact that he could’ve very much done so to V if Dante hadn’t shown up was--...

 

“It won’t be the last time you get too excited and trigger, kiddo.” Dante reassured, nuzzling Nero’s forehead in a shocking gesture of kindness. “It happens to all of us devils, as far as I’m concerned.”

 

Was Dante always this soft?

 

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

 

No. Something was wrong. Dante had to be pulling his leg. Still, Nero wasn’t in the right place to be the one to accuse Dante of anything. Not after what he’d just done to him.

 

Frustrated again, this time for an entirely different reason, Nero found himself once more in a mess of questions.

 

How the hell did Dante even get back here so soon anyway? Why was he here? Surely he didn’t come here just to have sex...shit, what’d they just done? How on earth did he get swept up in Dante’s whims all over again?

 

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up before you head back over to our little princess.” Dante declared.

 

“Dante…” Nero frowned, pushing his hand into Dante’s mouth, forcing it away from him. “Stop...it’s my fault, I…”

 

Dante took the hand at his mouth and kissed it, gently, like he would Vergil’s, like he had V’s. His precious nephew, his family. He could never fault him; just like he could never fault any of them.

 

Nero quieted down, trapped by the look in Dante’s eyes. “Mmh…”

 

“Devil Trigger can be tricky,” Dante explained, when Nero showed no further sign of protest. “But you’re doing a lot better than I did the first time. Not bad, for a--”

 

“Don’t call me deadweight.” Nero snapped.

 

“--Kid.” Dante finished, lips splitting in an amused grin.

 

Nero flushed red and Dante couldn’t help but think he looked almost exactly like he did the first time Dante got his hands on him.

 

“Now, why don’t you tell me all about your little crush.” Dante pursed his lips thoughtfully, if just to tease Nero a little more.

 

“DANTE!” Nero yelled, his face flushing even further. But he clammed up again, averting his gaze.

 

Dante waited.

 

After a few moments of silence, where he began to stroke Nero’s fluffy hair, the kid finally spoke up.

 

“I thought I’d never see him again,” Nero explained, pressing his lips together between thoughts. “But he’s back.”

 

Dante nodded, listening.

 

“I shouldn’t have--...” Nero cut himself off, not wanting to show just how lost he was. Despite being able to finally get as strong as he was now--he felt like a child throwing a tantrum over not getting what he wanted.

 

It hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt to look at that book. To feel the feather V had stuck inside of it so lovingly. To think about how he’d been lied to--though, granted, Vergil had no idea at the time-by his own father. What was this? Love?

 

Could it be?

 

It was different...for the love he felt for Kyrie.

 

It was so brutal, so selfish, so possessive. Hard. Cruel.

 

“A devil’s love.” The words escaped Nero suddenly.

 

Dante smirked, nuzzling the kid’s nose. “It’s hard. But it’s still love.”

 

Nero found his throat tightening again--he shouldn’t have kissed V. Not just then, but perhaps not even a year ago--he should have stopped and turned away from this path before all this could happen.

 

“I don’t know V, but I know your father.” Dante piped up.

 

Nero inhaled sharply, this time thankful that Dante’s voice was there to interrupt his downspiralling thoughts.

 

“Let me tell you, your old man is as stubborn as a Blitz. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a sword run through me thanks to him...and not the fun way, either.”

 

Nero frowned, searching Dante’s eyes. But all he saw in Dante’s eyes was...himself.

 

“But despite that...your father loves his family very much. Too much, actually.” Dante stopped stroking Nero’s head, resting his hand on in and looking him in the eye. “He’s afraid he’ll hurt them if he gets too close.”

 

Nero’s eyes lit up with understanding, and Dante smiled proudly at his nephew. Now, things didn’t go as planned, but he was glad he could give Nero that little push he’d intended to. The kid had a long way to go; but so did he, and so did Vergil at his age. He had plenty of time. Besides, they were all together now, the whole family.

 

It was good to have a family again, Dante reminded himself.

 

Dante chuckled. “You did good, walking away when you did. He’ll open up eventually. Uh, emotionally, of course.”

 

The sexual innuendo was obvious.

 

In return, Nero frowned. “You suck at this.”

 

“Still…” Dante’s smile turned into a devilish smirk. “You did take a few bites out of me.”

 

Nero froze, a shiver running up his spine.

 

“And for that…”

 

Dante triggered, holding Nero down on his jagged hips, against the large, ribbed erection between them.

 

_ “DANTE!” _

 

.

 

.

 

.

**(June 22, 3:45 PM)**

 

“...while thy branches mix with mine, and our roots together join…” He recited, but the statement felt all at once true, and untrue, full and yet filled with nothing but hollowness.

 

V stared at his book desperately. The treasure he held dear. If that were true...then why did it feel like an empty cover with blank pages? It no longer made sense. He...he had no recollection of how and where to find the passages he needed, when he required them both in his hands. There was no comfort to be had in its pages.

 

“In order to erase the rationality causing this madness…” V continued. “I must once again, draw meaning from the words on these pages…must I not?”

 

Nico scribbled furiously on the note she had with her, frowning at V’s question, trying to multitask. V had gotten sullen after they’d come back from destroying the hell gate--as much as V insisted it was barely worthy of being called that, whatever that meant.

 

“Maybe ya don’t need it anymore,” Nico suggested, humming as she tinkered on yet another Devil Breaker.

 

“Maybe you’ve found something else,” Nico casually put forward. “Or... _ someone _ else?”

 

V frowned. He knew what Nico’s words meant. 

 

Whilst Nero had become accustomed to the idea, due to Dante’s meddling, V had yet to acknowledge their bond was anything more than that. If it was as plain as day that even Nico could see, it must have been true.

 

No. 

 

V could not ask for more than he was already given.

 

He needed to disappear, this time, quietly.

 

Shadow purred, nudging V’s knee once. Then again, then again, persistently as if to scold him. V huffed, pressing his hand on Shadow’s head. It felt good to have her back--but he did not enjoy the idea of being scolded by both ladies.

 

“What’s she sayin’?” Nico asked, scribbling away at a piece of paper she had in the mess on her table. Her calculations were never wrong, she thought, smiling and circling the numbers she had worked out.

 

V sighed. “Only Griffon could decipher words from this one.”

 

“Well, Nero better hurry up and get his smelly butt back here then.” Nico shrugged, sitting down next to V, bringing the paper along with her.

 

There was so much more V wanted to say, but he decided that Nico did not need to be burdened with his troubles as well.

 

“Tada!”

 

V blinked in a bit of a surprise when the paper was presented to him by Nico. The jumble of equations was impossible to read, but he did see a few numbers encircled in bright blue pen that made him just as impossible to miss.

 

“What is this?” V asked.

 

“Fourty-four days, seventeen hours, forty-five minutes, and fifty-two seconds.” Nico explained.

 

V searched his thoughts, “...I...do not understand.”

 

“That’s how long it takes for a quarter-devil-boy from Fortuna to fall in love.” Nico declared with a laugh. “Or well, most likely less than that time. And well, only in one very specific case when he’s been exposed to uh...hot demon tatts.”

 

V stared at the parchment, wondering exactly what it all meant, when...he realized it. The span of his memories--the time he recalled himself as only human...this was it. This was all that time he had been, ‘alive’. 

 

Fourty-four days, seventeen hours, fourty-five minutes, fifty-two seconds...

 

“And not a moment longer.” V laughed dryly.

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Nico said, waving her finger back and forth in disappointment. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

 

V glanced at her, Shadow joining in and purring curiously.

 

“Flip it over.” Nico instructed.

 

And so V did. Turning the paper in his hand, he found three dates written. The first, was May first, which was crossed out, followed by question marks and May third brackets--the day he first met Dante. 

 

The second date was June fifteenth.

 

“...the fifteenth…” V recalled--it was when he had finally, finally reunited with Urizen, one year ago.

 

“Whichever date you want, I guess.” Nico shrugged, getting back up to return to her work. “You were born twice. Though, I don’t know if the first time counted since uh...well..stuff happened.”

 

V couldn’t help but smile. Was this an attempt at comforting him? She stopped when she reached the table and suddenly turned, raising a finger and looking excited.

 

“Oh! Why not have  _ two _ birthdays! That’s two parties and two cakes!”

 

V chuckled at the idea.

 

Though the banter was light--V knew what Nico had been trying to convey. He was here. Right now. He had returned. June fifteenth...the last day of his existence as a feeble, quarter of a person...had become the day of his rebirth.

 

_ Was it so wrong to enjoy being alive? _

 

“Wait, doesn’t that mean Vergil gets two cakes too?” Nico gasped, growing more excited. 

 

V’s musings were interrupted by Nico’s statement; he instead began to wonder what sort of mad genius it was that resided in Nico’s head.

 

“Does that make you V’s twin, but not Dante’s twin, but Dante’s Vergil’s twin?!”

 

V then wondered if stabbing himself with his cane would end his misery.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note END:
> 
> Thanks so much to @AntiDX for calculating V’s lifespan: https://twitter.com/AntiDX/status/1139906039245967360
> 
> Thank you also to my lovely, stressed-out, overworked beta @AShyCryptid! I’m so sorry THIS CHAPTER ENDED UP SO LONG! I HAD NO IDEA!! I swear, when I did the word count that morning, it was at 4k and I was thinking I would have to apologize to   
> everyone on hee for making it so short!
> 
> This went up at a weird time, but it’s Father’s Day somewhere, right?! I thought it’d be nice to have this be posted then since well...Vergil and all...V goes to sleep, Vergil comes back, and it’s father’s day the day right after that?!?! Did Vergil do this on purpose?! Such jerk.
> 
> Welp, I’m going to be working on my other fics while I cook up ideas for this one...and my IRL job too...urgh, I better get on that before I get in trouble! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I’m planning to have some Dante/Nero since this one ended up being NeroV and Nero/Dante by accident! Oh well…
> 
> Cheers,  
> HentaiPrincess06
> 
>  
> 
> \---


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